Blood in the Water
by brwneyes1324
Summary: A series of robberies targeting wealthy art collectors brings the CBI close to the world Patrick Jane used to live in. Sequel to Thicker than Red Water and Seeing Red in the Dark.
1. Painted into a Corner

**Disclaimer: I, of course, own nothing but my own words. This is done for love of the show and wonderful characters!**

**Chapter 1- Painted into a corner**

The day dawned softly, the gentle light of the rising sun bringing the world into focus. The dark SUV was waved passed a gated entrance, and pulled up to a large white house turning a pale yellow from the dawning sun, and two people stepped out. The tall blonde man with slightly unruly curly hair smoothed out his dark charcoal vest and tucked his hands in the matching suit coat pockets as he strolled after his companion. She was a small, petite woman with an aura of confidence and command that was unmistakable, and her dark hair pulled back into a severe ponytail that only made her fig green eyes more noticeable as she frowned.

Another tall, well built man with short dark hair and light blue eyes met them just outside the ornate door.

"Morning, boss," Rigsby said with a pleasant smile. Jane grinned a welcome at the taller man and then his restless gaze began sweeping the area as he and Lisbon listened, Rigsby guiding them into the house. "Karl and Regina Westlake woke last night when they heard some sounds coming from downstairs. Karl Westlake confronted a masked intruder, who tasered him and locked him in a closet. Mrs. Westlake heard the commotion and triggered the alarm. By the time the security guards arrived, the intruder was gone."

"What was taken?" Jane asked, his own blue taking in the room. He had approached a wide mantle over a tiled fireplace, and was looking at the framed pictures, noting the empty space in the center. "A statue?"

Rigsby blinked, but knew Jane too well to be entirely surprised. "Yes, a sculpture called "L'embrace" from 17th century France. The Westlake's had just purchased it from Grosser Art Auctions."

"Let me guess," Lisbon said wryly, her eyes meeting Jane's. "Three days ago."

"Yes, boss," Rigsby said, "looks like our guy. Fourth robbery in the last two months, all three days after an auction at Grosser's."

"Wonderful," Lisbon said as she pulled on surgical gloves and began looking around the living room. She glanced up as a compact Asian man approached from the kitchen area.

"Looks like the same MO," Cho said impassively. "The lock to the kitchen door has been picked, and the alarm wires cut. Whoever this guy is, he's a professional."

"You get a description from Mr. Westlake?" Lisbon asked, watching the small army of forensic personal swarm over the scene.

"Slightly built male, about 5'5", thinks he may have had light brown eyes," Cho said, flipping open his notebook. "The intruder wore a black cloth mask, a dark sweater with the hood pulled up and leather gloves. That is all Mr. Westlake saw before he was tasered. The security guard at the north gate saw a similar figure drive off in a beige sedan."

"The car was stolen from the neighbor," Jane commented as he looked out the large bay windows, taking in the view of the ocean below. "Had one of those remote triggers for the gate to open."

"Yeah," Cho agreed. "We found the car about a mile down the road, empty. Got the forensic guys going over it."

Lisbon sighed, the small furrow over the bridge of her nose growing as her frowned deepened. "If this is our guy, they won't find anything. Damn it."

"This guy is good, gotta give him that," Jane said as he followed Lisbon to the kitchen door. Grace Van Pelt stood by the sink, taking notes and smiled at them in greeting. A brief glance showed Jane what the other four crime scenes had. The concealed alarm wires were neatly pulled and cleanly cut, the lock showed just the slightest of scratches from the lock picks. He couldn't have picked the lock better. "He plans well, knows his targets, has an easy escape route and a backup plan if interrupted."

Lisbon grunted slightly in irritation, and Jane looked at her. Lisbon's frustration with this case was starting to show. Four robberies of very rich, irritatingly connected people who insisted on pressuring the attorney general and governor, who then rolled it downhill to Virgil Minelli, the head of the California Bureau of Investigations. Minelli wasn't so crass as to pass that pressure directly onto Lisbon, but she felt it anyway. They were the best team in the state, but this thief wasn't leaving them a lot to work with, and it was starting to get to her.

Jane reached out and touched her shoulder. Her green eyes reflected her surprise when she looked at him. "We will catch him, Lisbon," Jane promised softly, his eyes intent and serious. Lisbon paused a moment, unaccustomed to Jane being the hopeful one, before straightening her shoulders and nodded once.

"Right. Cho, Rigsby, I want you guys to canvas the area, see if anyone else saw this guy," Lisbon ordered. The two men nodded, knowing it was likely futile but good police work didn't leave work undone. Maybe they would get lucky. Lisbon turned, only to find Jane missing. "Van Pelt, go to the auction house, get the records." Grace nodded and left. Lisbon looked around for her wandering consultant, and found him outside the front door, staring down the street to the imposing gate.

The Wind Haven community here in Malibu was fairly new, only about 15 years old but a lot of movers and shakers lived here. Not a single house in this subdivision sold for less than 2.5 million, and they even had their own park. The entire community was surrounded by high brick walls with four exit gates, each one with a small guardhouse and a 24 hour, around the clock security team in place. Jane, however, was looking at the small camera trained on the gate.

"What is it?" Lisbon asked, standing shoulder to shoulder with the blond man.

"How is this guy doing it?" Jane mused, and waved at the camera. "He isn't coming in by the gates, he would have seen the cameras. Maybe over the wall, but there aren't a lot of places to climb without being seen by somebody, not here. He knows these houses, knows exactly where to find the hidden alarm wires and where to cut to avoid setting them off. He knows which houses have the easy to take cars, how the exit gates work. He has to be casing these homes, but when? These security people are top notch, they would notice. And with only three days after the auctions, he doesn't have a lot of time."

"He has to know these people before hand," Lisbon said as they walked back to the car. Her dark red shirt and black pants looked severe but feminine, as they hugged the trim lines of her body. "I just don't get how he is selecting his targets. I mean, how does he know what art they will buy?"

Jane stopped, the SUV door open and suddenly grinned widely at Lisbon as a thought struck him. "Lisbon, you are brilliant! What if he isn't selecting targets, but selecting the art?"

Lisbon's eyes lit up as she followed his train of thought. "Damn it, that could be it. Each piece he has stolen at been some kind of French art. The painting of Louis XV, the two busts of Napoleon, and now this statue!"

"And each piece has been small, easy to carry and hide," Jane added. "We need to see the pre-auction books. And I have an idea."

Lisbon looked at the blue eyed man warily, noting his eyes had turned slightly green in the morning light. She felt herself almost get lost in the oceanic depths of his gaze, before she brought herself back under control.

"I'm not going to like it, am I?" Lisbon asked, her voice tired despite the slightly hopeful quirk of her lips.

Jane just shrugged with one of his trademark grins. "Maybe. Don't be such a cynic, woman."

Lisbon could only shake her head and try to hide her smile as they drove away. Jane pretended not to notice as he looked out the window, his eyes twinkling as a brilliantly clever plan began to take shape in his mind.

The tricky part, he decided, was going to get the CBI to part with the $500,000 he would need.


	2. Setting up the Sting

**_Author's Note: Sorry if this chapter seems a bit pedantic, but it is setting up what comes next._**

**Chapter 2—Setting up the sting**

"No," Virgil Minelli said forcefully, waving his coffee cup. "No and no, Jane."

"It would work," Jane said patiently, careful to hide the smile that threatened to peek out. He could see Lisbon behind her boss, her head tilted down and away so her own tell-tale humor wouldn't be seen as she leaned against the wall.

"Jane, I have protected you and supported you, in the face of a dozen crazy stunts," Minelli said, running an unselfconscious hand through his short cropped, thinning hair. "But this, this is just not possible."

"Sir," Lisbon broke in, "we need to do something."

"Well, then do something that doesn't require the CBI to use tax payer money to buy an ugly French painting for $500,000!" Minelli replied, tossing the Grosser pre-auction flyer to Jane on the couch. The blond man glanced at the picture, and had to admit Minelli had a point.

It was an ugly painting.

"Ugly or not, this is the next target," Jane pointed out, his legs crossed and one arm thrown over the couch back. His posture was easy and open, supremely confident and in control. To be frank, it bugged the hell out of Minelli, almost as much as he admired Jane's easy command.

"Then ask whoever does buy it to let us set up surveillance around them," Minelli said, trying to ignore the sinking feeling that he was losing this argument and wasn't sure how. He sat down at his desk, drinking the last of his tepid coffee. "But the CBI cannot and will not buy a very expensive 18th century painting just to bait a trap. The budget is stretched thin as it is, and I can't defend that kind of expenditure to the governor. Plus, we can't be held responsible if it does get stolen or damaged! Not to mention, what happens if you are wrong, Jane."

Lisbon sighed, and seemed ready to give in. Jane, however, had rolled up the flyer and was tapping his chin, eyes narrowed. Lisbon shifted, and Minelli looked a little wary. They recognized that look.

"I'm not wrong. What if we can get the next buyer to cooperate," Jane said slowly, "We could bait the trap then. Without the CBI having to buy the painting."

"And how would we do that?" Lisbon asked. "The kinds of people who buy these art pieces are not likely to let us use their new prize as bait. Whoever this guy is, he is really good. I hate to admit it, but this thief could very well slip past our security."

"Not if we chose the house, set up surveillance in advance," Jane pointed out, blue eyes darkened with thought. "Have complete control of the house long before he knows it even holds the painting."

"And how to you propose we do that?" Minelli asked, his own blue eyes wary. He brushed his brown tie flat. "We don't even know how this guy cases the homes, much less who will eventually buy the painting."

"And there is no guarantee that the buyer will help us," Lisbon chimed in.

Jane stood up, his eyes flashing as he finally let his grin loose. "I think I know someone who could help us," he said as he left the office. Minelli and Lisbon traded a look, before Minelli grabbed his coffee cup, waving it at Lisbon for emphasis.

"I don't want to know," he said, "Just don't screw it up."

"Yes, sir," Lisbon replied, a small smile tugging at her mouth. Then she followed Jane out.

A few minutes later, she sat in the passenger seat of Jane's light blue Citron as the moved through traffic, clutching at her seatbelt. She fought herself to keep from telling Jane to slow down, knowing it would only amuse him. But she was thinking it very loudly, and she knew he knew it.

"So, how do you propose we secure a location?" Lisbon asked instead, closing her eyes as Jane whipped between a delivery truck and dark brown sedan to change lanes.

"Easy, we just need to set the house up ahead of the auction by about a week," Jane said, deftly shifting gears to blow past a yellow light. "The next auction is in 2 weeks, so plenty of time."

"And what house?" Lisbon asked, her rigid posture belying her calm voice. She tried not to gasp when Jane took a sharp corner, narrowly missing hitting a minivan.

"Mine," Jane said calmly. Lisbon shot an incredulous look at Jane.

"Your house?" Lisbon repeated stupidly, and Jane met her eyes. They were calm, but Lisbon could see the concern in them that had nothing to do with the current case. "The Malibu beach house?"

"Yeah," Jane replied softly. "Look, it's in the right neighborhood, the right security systems installed already. Plus, it's empty and reasonably secluded. We just have to fill it with fake furniture to make it looked lived in, set up whatever the surveillance guys want, then sit back and wait."

They had passed the main gate of the UC Davis campus, and pulled into a small parking lot in front of a smallish three story building. The sign declared this the home of Veterinarian Medicine, and Lisbon realized who they had come to visit. Once outside the car, she caught Jane's arm and gave him a serious look.

"Are you sure about this?" Lisbon asked. "I know what that house…well."

Jane smiled slightly and patted her hand as he slipped her grip. "It's the easiest way, Lisbon. Otherwise we have to find a house, get the owners to agree and have all those lawyers and contracts. That takes time, which we don't have. If we set the house up now, it won't look so suspicious. We can offer our "surveillance" to the buyer, surveillance this thief will simply elude. If we do it right, he won't even realize the entire house is a trap."

"Ok," Lisbon finally agreed, and looked at the building. "Buy why are we here? Your si….friend, Gemma, works here, right?"

Jane nodded, choosing to ignore the near slip. "Well, we need a cooperative buyer. I think Gemma might be willing."

Lisbon looked skeptical. There was still a lot she didn't understand about these two, Gemma Patrick and Patrick Jane. She knew their relationship was complicated, long standing and well hidden, and understood the reasons why. But they were both so careful to not tell anyone anything more than the basics. Lisbon wondered if Gemma had even told much to Kimball Cho, her boyfriend of several months now.

The rode the elevator to the second floor and walked down a long, slightly drab hallway. Lisbon did her best to ignore the lingering looks Jane got from two female secretaries, and smiled slightly when one short, slender man turned to watch the blond man walk by. Jane took it all with aplomb, and even winked at Lisbon when he caught her smile.

They stopped in front of a door half ajar. Gemma Patrick's name was etched into the window, and Jane pushed the door open. Gemma was facing her narrow window, her back to them. Her long blue black hair was braided, brushing her lower back as she tugged on her left ear in irritation as she talked to someone on the phone. Her velvet voice was raised a little in annoyance, and Lisbon noted she was in loose scrubs that hugged her lithe hips, but otherwise did little for her trim figure.

"Damn it, Allan," Gemma was saying, "it is not so much to ask that the proper surgical trays be sent to my operating room! I am not Dr. Lanner and I don't use his trays! I don't understand how this can be so difficult."

She paused, listening to the tiny voice before speaking again. "Allan, this has happened 4 times in the last 2 months! I know I'm the new kid on the block here, but, damn it! Yes, yes, I know you are trying, but as the wise man said…do or do not, there is no try!"

Lisbon and Jane traded amused looks to hear the woman reference the movie. Apparently, Allan found it funny as well, because Gemma's posture relaxed and she thanked him before turning around with a wide smile.

"Janey!" she said, and opened her arms wide to hug Jane tightly. When the parted, she offered her hand to Lisbon, her dark brown eyes warm with affection. Lisbon saw the shiner from her harrowing experience 4 months ago was long gone, and her eyes no longer overly alert and fearful. "And Teresa! To what do I owe this pleasure?"

Lisbon smiled wryly when Jane suddenly was interested in the framed certificates and diploma's on Gemma's office walls.

"Jane seems to think you can help us with a case," Lisbon started. Gemma tilted her head and sat at her desk. Jane handed her the Grosser auction flyer, and Gemma looked at the French painting. The image was of an old woman, obviously rich judging by the luxurious clothing and large jewels. But the woman was not attractive, despite the best efforts of an obviously gifted artist. Her nose was crooked and her smile severe and forced, her pale hazel eyes haughty and cold. All in all, Lisbon found the painting creepy as the old woman stared out at her.

"This is hideous," Gemma declared. She looked at Jane with curiosity in her eyes.

"It is horrible," Jane agreed with a little smirk, "But there is a thief who is stealing French art, exactly 3 days after they are sold from the Grosser Art Auction house. That one is next."

"Good Lord, who would want this horrid woman on their wall?" Gemma asked, tossing the flyer with the picture down. The thin book fluttered closed. "I know this artist. He was a court painter to Louis XIV. This woman has to be some aristocrat in the Sun King's court. If she was less unpleasant looking, this painting would be worth a cool million, easy. So, what do you want from me?"

Lisbon looked at Jane, who took a deep breath. "I want you to buy it."

Gemma blinked, and Lisbon tried to hide her shock. She didn't know what she was expecting, but this wasn't it. "Jane…" she got out.

"And do what with it?" Gemma asked over Lisbon's half-voiced objection. Lisbon realized that Gemma hadn't said she couldn't buy the painting, and snapped her mouth closed, confused.

"Let us use it as bait," Jane said, and set about explaining his plan. Gemma listened intently, then flipped through the book again. Lisbon watched silently, trying to figure this out. Why did Jane think Gemma had that kind of money? Gemma's warm brown eyes found Lisbon's fig green.

"Do you think this will work?" Gemma asked calmly. "Because I don't want to buy this awful painting, but if it will help the CBI, I will. I owe you."

"You don't owe us anything," Lisbon said quickly, "We were just doing our job. Charlie Gitmore…"

"Gitmore was done the minute he laid a hand on me," Gemma said firmly, not bothering to conceal her shudder. "Cho would have seen to that. But will this help?"

Lisbon nodded. "Yes, I think it would."

Gemma tossed her long braid behind her back, and nodded in return to the small, petite woman who had helped save her life and Gemma thought was slowly saving the life of her beloved Patrick Jane. The bronzed skinned woman gave a sudden, mercurial smile as she looked back to the blond consultant.

"You realize, Harvey is gonna have a stroke," Gemma pointed out, referring to their personal lawyer and one of the top attorneys in the state. "Getting insurance on this ugly thing is going to be hell with your little charade risking theft."

Patrick Jane just smiled back at the younger woman. Both sets of eyes, one ocean blue and the other deep brown, crinkled at the corners in identical fashion as they smiled the same smile.

Lisbon could only sigh silently. Jane's stunts always sounded so simple and clean, but something usually went a little haywire. She'd be more upset, if these plans of his didn't always bear fruit, and privately admitted they were usually a lot of fun. Plus, maybe she'd learn a little something more when they started fixing up the Malibu beach house. Patrick Jane was a mystery in many ways, but here was her chance to probe.

And, damn it all if she wasn't going to take it.


	3. Liars

**Chapter 3-Liars**

"Well, aside from a few holes large enough to drive a truck through, I don't see a problem with Patrick's little plan," Gemma commented from the bathroom stall where she was changing into normal clothes. Lisbon leaned against the counter, watching the open exit door where Jane lingered. He looked a little affronted by the dark-haired woman's comment.

"It's a perfectly sound plan," Jane protested. Lisbon didn't bother to hide her smirk at the blonde man.

"Of course, perfectly sound," Gemma agreed as she came out, tucking her loose flowing shirt into her dark jeans. Jeans, little to no make-up or jewelry and a loose yet flattering shirt seemed to be her preferred clothing, although Lisbon noted she had given in to city living enough to be wearing sandals instead of heavy work boots. "It just needs a little work."

Jane actually looked a little petulant, and Lisbon and Gemma traded amused looks. As Gemma left the bathroom, she linked her arm with Jane's. Lisbon noted they were almost the same height, and Gemma smiled into Jane's eyes to take the sting out of her words.

"Janey," Gemma said patiently, "you are a master of the cold read and short game, but who does your long-term plays?"

Jane flicked a slightly guilty look to Lisbon, who narrowed her eyes at this new piece of the puzzle. Gemma simply took his look as assent, and led them to her small dark blue SUV.

"What happened to the truck?" Jane asked. "You love that truck."

"Transmission finally went," Gemma replied sadly. "So I had to move on. Anyway, if we are going to make this work, we need to work out a few details. Have you picked a location yet?"

"The house," Jane replied simply. Gemma stopped, and turned slowly to stare at the man. Lisbon watched the flicker of emotion in Gemma's dark brown eyes, ranging from surprise, regret and reluctance.

"You sure about that?" Gemma asked, her velvet voice soft. Jane gave a one-shouldered shrug and a slightly brittle smile. Gemma looked deeply into his eyes, and Lisbon sensed they had one of their silent conversations before Gemma finally nodded.

"Ok, then," Gemma said. "Then I need to make a few arrangements."

"Like what?" Lisbon asked, her green eyes narrowed. Letting Jane take her control was one thing, but letting someone else do the same was a new twist she wasn't sure she'd be happy with.

"Well, we need to get the security system checked and probably upgraded, the electricity turned back on and some furniture," Gemma said reasonably. "I think it's best if we pass the Malibu house off as my new vacation home instead of a primary residence. It would explain the long absence and recent activity. If your thief knows these homes as well as you think, he would notice and needs a reasonable explanation. At least I would, if I were him."

Jane and Lisbon nodded, and Lisbon found herself wondering just how Gemma knew what the thief would be thinking.

"I need to get back to the office to get our surveillance set up," Lisbon said, turning to Jane. She looked a little doubtfully at his car, but unhesitatingly approached it to get in.

"I can take you back, Agent Lisbon," Gemma offered suddenly. Lisbon turned in surprise, and noted Gemma was giving a slightly impish smile to Jane. "Jane needs to go see Harvey Walter and explain this little stunt. I'm supposed to pick up Kim for dinner anyway."

"Me?" Jane said, a little nonplussed. Lisbon accepted Gemma's offer, and gave her own teasing grin at the blond man as she got in the small blue SUV. It didn't happen often, but she loved it when Jane was knocked a little off kilter.

"Your plan, your job," Gemma called out as they pulled away. Lisbon gave him a little wave from the passenger seat, and didn't miss Jane's wide grin as he got into his car.

Lisbon turned to her driver, and clutched at her seatbelt when Gemma took a daredevil chance to pass a slow taxi. Gemma looked over and saw Lisbon's reaction. But unlike Jane, she took pity and her driving calmed considerably, and Lisbon found herself able to breathe again.

"You hate not driving," Gemma commented, her dark eyes placid and deep.

"Yeah, I suppose I do," Lisbon admitted, bracing for an incisive follow-up that never came. Her gaze made Gemma glance over again, and smile slightly.

"I am not Patrick Jane," Gemma replied to the unspoken thought. "I see a lot of what he sees, but I don't play those games."

Lisbon nodded thoughtfully, and decided to ask a question that had been in the back of her mind for months. "Why not?"

Gemma shrugged as the pulled away from the green light. "I actually don't like the knowing."

"Most people would love to have the ability you two share," Lisbon commented. "Jane certainly seems too."

"Janey loves it, especially when he knows he's right," Gemma said with a soft laugh. "But I don't. All those secrets, the little lies and half-truths. There is a weight to knowing a person's inner demons, feeling them lie right to your face. It makes trusting people hard."

"That's why you like Cho so much," Lisbon said, understanding dawning. "He doesn't know how to lie outside the interrogation room."

Gemma gave a soft, almost loving smile. "There are a lot of things about Kimball Cho I like. But actually, he's a very good liar."

Lisbon blinked. "No, I don't believe it."

Gemma nodded, her slightly wicked grin lighting up her dark eyes. "He is, and I'm sure he'd be mad as hell at me for spilling his secret. It's because he tells the truth almost all the time, no one realizes when he slips a lie in there. It is brilliant, when you stop to think about it."

Lisbon brushed a lock of her dark hair that had escaped her pony tail behind her ear, not sure how she felt about finding this out about her senior field agent. Especially from his girlfriend who kept a set of professional lock picks in her car and was an admitted accomplice to Patrick Jane's psychic scam. She decided she trusted Cho anyway. He would never lie to her about something important, and rest didn't really matter. Besides, if she really needed to know, she could probably get Jane or even Gemma to spill. Somewhere along the line, Gemma had decided to trust Lisbon to an extent even Jane sometimes didn't match.

"Well," Lisbon said, deciding to change the subject. "Where are you two going to dinner tonight?"

Gemma winked at Lisbon. "Oh, no place special."


	4. No Place Special

**Chapter 4-No Place Special**

No place special turned out to be exactly that, a little business called No Place Special. Cho exited Gemma's car, and started to have serious doubts about the dark eyed woman. The store front was decorated in bright, hippie colors and declared itself as a make-your-own-plate pottery restaurant.

"You are trying to get back at me for something," Cho said, his expression flat. Gemma just smirked a little at him, took his hand and all but dragged him into the ridiculously new age building. The incense rose thickly from the open bay window, and Cho was certain that if he looked in the kitchen, there would a large stash of marijuana next to the dinner special and a very mellow chef.

"Hey, this is your idea," Gemma pointed out as she handed him a stained apron with a faded bunny rabbit on it. Cho just gave her a flat look.

"When I said I wanted you to choose our dates once in a while, I was hoping you would just pick out the movie or restaurant," Cho replied, but didn't resist when Gemma put the apron over his head. He could feel her body brush up against his, and she smiled into his eyes, leaning close as she tied it around his back. Her citrus scent filled his nose, and he breathed deeply. She impishly kissed his nose then spun him around and made him sit in front of a bench covered in drying mud.

Cho noted a flurry of activity in the kitchen area as the inhabitants saw him. He gave a resigned sigh, knowing his demeanor all but screamed "cop" and was tempted to intervene in the hasty disposal of evidence going on back there.

"Don't, Kim," Gemma warned him with a crooked smile. "You are off the clock, and you wanted me to pick. So I picked."

Kimball Cho sighed again, knowing this was his own fault. Two weeks ago, he and Gemma had ended up in a fight. It hadn't been the first, but certainly the worst so far. He had come to her new condo tired and waspish, frustrated at the lack of leads in his new case. Gemma had come home irritated as well, angry at the previous owners of several horses seized by the police for neglect she was now caring for. One snapped comment and a rude response had escalated into a full blown fight before either of them knew what had happened, and Cho had let slip that he found it taxing to make all their date plans. Two hours later (and one broken cup thrown with the dark haired woman's killer softball pitch), they had both calmed enough to talk it through. Gemma had agreed to be more active in their plans, and this was the result.

Cho could go hours without uttering a single word, but sometimes Cho hated his big mouth. The irony was not lost on him.

Gemma pulled her own apron on, this one with a yellow duck smoking a cigar, and sat across from him. A few minutes later, Cho found himself with his hands deep in soft, pliable clay. Gemma, of course, was already fashioning a reasonably pretty plate, where as his remained a lumpy mess. Gemma laughed, and he smiled ruefully. She reached over, her long, graceful fingers meshing with his as she helped him make form from his mess. She was leaning in close, a small smudge of brown clay drying on her cheek, and Cho felt his breath catch. The sensation of their fingers pushing into and out of the smooth, malleable clay was suddenly very sensual, and Cho stole a kiss when she passed too close one more time. She gave her low laugh, then swatted him away.

Dinner turned out to be very pleasant, the food plentiful and cheap if not exotic fare. Their plates were to be fired and ready for pick up in a few days, and they decided to go for a walk. As they strolled down the street, their hands remained entwined. Both enjoyed a feeling of contentment and peace.

"Kim," Gemma finally said, "Lisbon and Jane came to see me today."

"Really?" Cho asked, a little surprised. "About what?"

"Your case, those art thefts," Gemma replied. "They want my help."

"Your help?" Cho said. "What do they want you to do?"

Gemma bit her lip. "Kim, you know I have some money saved up, right?"

Cho felt his brow crease in confusion. "Yeah, you mentioned you got a good price on your practice and inherited some money from Jane's wife. Why?"

"It's a bit more substantial than that," Gemma said, her eyes a little worried. She pulled Cho to a small bench and sat down next to him. She was quiet a moment, before she turned to face him. Cho reached up to stroke her hair.

"What's wrong?" he asked in concern.

"I just don't want you to think I've been keeping this from you, because it isn't like that," Gemma said quickly. "But, well, I actually have quite a bit of money."

Cho frowned slightly, not really sure why she was so concerned about this. "Ok. How much?"

"About 4 million," Gemma said softly.

Silence.

"Kimball?" she asked, worried.

"Dollars?" Cho choked out, not really sure what he was feeling.

"Yeah, about that," Gemma said. Her dark eyes were wide as she looked at him.

"How?" he asked finally, swallowing. Gemma's fingers tightened in his hand, and he reached out to stroke the back of her hand with his free one. He didn't meet her eyes, though.

"I told you, Patrick made a very good living being a psychic," Gemma said quietly.

"Holy crap," was all Cho could say. "So how did you get that kind of money?"

Gemma was silent for a moment, and Cho looked up to see the sadness in her eyes as she looked off into the night.

"When they were…," Gemma tried to say before she had to swallow hard. Cho suddenly felt like a clod, knowing she hated visiting these memories. "Well, Patrick shared all his personal wealth with his wife equally. When she died, two thirds of her share was to go to her daughter, and the rest split between me and Patrick. But with…."

Cho wrapped his arm around her as she fought back tears. Even so many years later, both she and Jane still grieved as if it happened only yesterday. Cho wondered if she would ever stop mourning.

"Anyway, Patrick didn't want any of it, so it all came to me," Gemma finished in a rush. "The rest, including all Patrick's business assets, we put into a trust. We've been using that for charities and stuff like that ever since, but the 4 million is mine."

He was silent for a while, holding her close as he processed. This did clarify a few things in his mind about Jane, including the utter disregard for the rich. He had not only taken their money, but he had been one of them in his previous life. It also explained his rather cavalier attitude toward money, like it didn't mean anything to him. It probably didn't.

"Tell me what you are thinking," Gemma asked softly.

"I was just thinking this explains Jane and the casino money," Cho said slowly.

"Casino money?"

"It was a case we worked," Cho explained, bringing her closer into his arms as they settled back on the bench. She relaxed into him. "This guy killed his father in law when he discovered he had bet the sexual favors of his wife in a poker game. Jane won something like $250,000 dollars at the blackjack tables, and another $300,000 in a poker game. As far as I can tell, he didn't spend a dime on himself."

"No, he wouldn't," Gemma agreed. "Not anymore."

"What does that mean?" Cho asked, looking into her dark brown eyes. Gemma sighed sadly, her eyes a little haunted.

"Once, he would have," Gemma replied solemnly. "Before. Once, money meant almost everything to him. Image, fame and money. Those were the things he worshipped and chased. Maybe things would have been different if he hadn't been so good at getting them."

"He was really like that?" Cho asked, not wanting to believe it. The Jane he knew could be arrogant and irritating, but he had a deep empathetic streak and could be so generous. He still had that hideously expensive watch Jane had given him. Gemma didn't answer, just leaned her head against his shoulder, and Cho knew he had his answer. The quiet stretched as Gemma was lost in her thoughts.

"So, how did Lisbon and Jane want you to help them?" Cho asked finally.

"They want me to buy the painting Janey thinks is the next target," Gemma replied as they stood and started to go back to her SUV. "And use the Malibu beach house as a trap."

"Alright," Cho said at length. "You are going to do it?"

"Yeah, I am," Gemma replied. "Are you mad at me?"

"Mad?" Cho said incredulously, tilting her chin up to his. "Of course not. But I will tell you one thing."

"What?" Gemma asked. Cho couldn't hide his smile anymore, and kissed her soft lips before he spoke.

"I'm not paying for dinner next time."


	5. Stairways and Supermarkets

**Chapter 5-Stairways and Supermarkets**

It took surprising little effort and time to set the house up. Gemma was clean and efficient, and even arranged for furniture without ever leaving Sacramento. It was her idea to bring in the CBI surveillance team as painters, and was waiting in the driveway of the Malibu house when the CBI crew arrived with Lisbon and Jane.

Lisbon had read the reports and seen pictures of the house, but the sheer impressive size of it made her gasp. In the daylight, it was hard to believe the horror that had happened here. The large, wide windows showed the echoing empty space inside, and Gemma handed Jane a set of keys and some mail. Jane took them quietly, and unlocked the door. When Lisbon followed him inside, she was astounded again. This house was huge, and once she looked out the back windows to the gorgeous beach view, she knew why Jane had lived here. The empty living room space held a large fireplace, and what she could see of the kitchen would be heaven.

Jane, however, seemed oblivious to it all, and dropped the junk mail on an overflowing shelf by the door, and walked calmly up the stairs with the keys. When Lisbon made to follow him, Gemma held her back. Gemma was watching Jane with dark, sad eyes. Her normally full lips were narrowed and her posture tense. She took a deep breath, met Lisbon's eyes.

"No one else goes up stairs," Gemma said firmly, then turned to direct the "painters" into the home.

Lisbon looked up the stairs to Jane, and saw him pause a moment before firmly locking two bedroom doors. He then sat down on the top stair, tucked his keys away and took off his suit coat. He gave a small, fake smile to Lisbon and then watched Gemma give orders and directions, avoiding Lisbon's gaze. Lisbon didn't see any cracks in his mask today, but she did notice that Gemma never looked up at Jane.

A few minutes later, Gemma handed the "painter" foreman a large roll of paper and instructed him to tape them to the windows. They would really paint the walls while adding their own surveillance bugs, and the covered windows would protect the windows as well as conceal activity. Lisbon looked around, noting the discolored places on the walls where pictures had once hung, and the indentions in the carpeted area of furniture long gone. The kitchen counters had a thick coating of dust on them, as did the corners of the hardwood floors and the window edges. It took her a while to realize it, but the banister along the stairs to those locked rooms was the only surface that was dust free.

After about four hours, the CBI teams had painted the main rooms and installed most of the hidden cameras and microphones. Lisbon had been on and off the phone with Rigsby and Cho who where testing the equipment connection in the surveillance truck hidden in the garage while Van Pelt helped set up what had once been Jane's home office as a security center. Gemma had tackled the worst of the grime off the window ledges and floors, and Lisbon found her making tea in the newly cleaned kitchen. Someone had opened the large sliding doors, and the ocean breeze was gradually taking away the odor of disuse in the house.

Jane was still sitting on the stairs, patient and almost forgotten.

"Would you mind taking some tea to Janey?" Gemma asked Lisbon. She was sorting through the piles of unopened mail from the entrance way, throwing most of it away but opening a few and keeping fewer pieces. Her own cup of tea steamed as she sipped it, but something about the entire scene told Lisbon that Gemma was just pretending to act normal.

"What is up in those rooms?" Lisbon asked as she took the large cup Gemma carefully prepared, making it just as Jane liked. The milk turned the clear liquid slightly opaque, and the scent of the tea curled around in the air.

Gemma paused, and looked mournfully into Lisbon's green eyes. "Them," she said softly, before turning back to the piles of letters without another word.

Lisbon looked up at Jane, and headed up the stairs with his tea. He gave her a real smile when she handed him the cup, and she couldn't help but grin at his expression of bliss when he drank. She sat on the steps below him, turning her body lengthwise along the stair and making herself comfortable.

"Want to talk about it?" she asked the blond man.

"Not really," Jane replied calmly. Lisbon just nodded and the two settled into companionable silence, listening to the faint noise of activity downstairs. The open floor plan let Lisbon see almost the entire house and out the wide windows to the ocean surf now that the paper had been taken down.

"I loved that view," Jane said finally, looking out at the same surf.

"It's beautiful," Lisbon agreed. "Did you thank her yet?"

"Thank who?" Jane asked in confusion.

"Gemma, for doing this," Lisbon replied, finally meeting Jane's blue eyes. "This is no easier for her than it is for you."

Jane looked down, and ran his hand through his unruly curls with an expression of guilt. Lisbon sighed.

"Jane, it's not always just about you," Lisbon pointed out. "Other people hurt too. Gemma's hurting too."

"I know," Jane said. He looked into her eyes seriously. "How did you talk to your brothers? After your mother died."

Lisbon shifted, and felt her expression darken. She almost didn't answer, but the sincerity in Jane's expression made her reconsider. She realized Jane was asking for advice.

"I didn't, not for a long time," Lisbon replied finally. "And it festered, all the things we didn't say. We fought all the time, and my father was just lost more and more being a drunk. But, then, one day I just blurted it out, all the things I needed them to hear. We still fought, but some of the pressure eased. It wasn't so…angry, I guess."

Jane nodded, thoughtful and they slipped back into silence.

Van Pelt peeked up the stairs, and smiled up at them. "We are all set. Gemma says the furniture will arrive in about 2 hours and we should think about feeding Rigsby before he eats somebody."

Jane cracked a smile, and Lisbon leveraged herself up. "Let me guess, pizza?"

"No, better," Gemma said as she came around the corner. Her back was to the stairs, her long braid with wisps of black hair escaping as she handed out a few water bottles to the hard working "painters" who were filing out the door.

"Giovanni's?" Jane asked.

"Yes. They will be delivering in about 15 minutes. I sent Cho to get some plates from my car," Gemma replied, before vanishing back into the kitchen. The dark haired woman never looked up to those locked rooms.

Lisbon gave Jane a level look, then glided down the stairs. Once Jane knew it was only his CBI team, and the other interlopers were all gone, he shook out his coat and also came down to the kitchen. It was irrational, his guarding the stairs, but he had been unable to tear himself away once he had locked those doors.

In the kitchen, Gemma and Cho were unpacking a large box filled with dishes and eating utensils. Grace was washing some tall plastic cups, while Lisbon and Rigsby leaned against one of the counters drinking bottled water. With a pang, Jane thought it felt right, having these people here in his house. It felt almost like a home again, and he wasn't really sure what to do with that feeling. He could almost ignore the shadows that came from upstairs.

He suddenly went up to Gemma and hugged her tightly. She was startled, but returned his embrace willingly. Jane pulled back, smoothed her hair and kissed her on the forehead. "Thank you," he said quietly. Gemma smiled up at him, and just nodded, before they parted.

Van Pelt felt her eyes widen when Jane suddenly hugged the dark eyed woman. She had carefully not asked the questions burning in her mind over the last few months since she found out about Gemma and Cho. She knew Jane and Gemma had known each other for a long time before, and her discreet background check on the woman hadn't turned up anything to really explain it. The red haired agent looked at Cho, and was surprised to see him actually smiling at Jane and Gemma hugging. Her glance slid to Lisbon, who was hiding her own little smile behind her water bottle. Rigsby appeared oblivious as he munched on a cracker he had found somewhere.

The melodious chime of the doorbell broke Van Pelt's musing, and she couldn't help but grin with everyone else at the speed of Rigsby as the tall man headed out to fetch the food. Gemma's dark eyes, warm with laughter, met Grace's light brown eyes.

"That man needs a wife," Gemma commented, and Lisbon almost choked on her water. Grace could only blush a fierce scarlet, but refused to be intimidated and kept Gemma's dark gaze. She had learned that much from Patrick Jane.

"That man needs a supermarket," Grace Van Pelt replied.

Gemma's warm, velvet laughter echoed through the house, and Jane had to admit it sounded good to hear this house ring with life again. He met Lisbon's amused gaze with a grin, and felt something tight ease in his chest.


	6. Night One

**Chapter 6-Night One**

Kimball Cho watched as Gemma Patrick carefully dressed for the auction. He found himself rather astonished at how she seemed to change right in front of him. Gone was the quirky, laid-back woman he found so intoxicating, replaced by a somewhat intimidating California socialite a hundred miles out of his league.

Gemma had chosen to dress in a pale, mint green silk shirt with a matching set of off white silk pants. The shirt was thin enough to just let a hint of her lace bra show through, but not enough to be crude. She let her long hair flow free and skillfully curled her long tresses into a style many supermodels would relish. Her make-up went on carefully, just enough to accent her full lips and almond eyes, tastefully understated. Gemma placed two small diamond studs in her ears and a small matching pendant. Golden bangle bracelets, two gemstone rings and an elegant, slender gold watch graced her fingers and wrists. A designer purse and matching shoes that probably cost more than Cho made in a month completed the outfit. Everything about her suddenly said class and money.

But the most striking difference was Gemma's demeanor. She went from slightly tom-boyish and carefree to a woman of studied elegance and wealth. Her gait took on a subtle sensual challenge in her stiletto heels, her normally warm eyes became cool and controlled. Her smile became more proper than genuine, and her body language haughtier. Cho decided he didn't like Gemma when she was like this, and something must have shown in his face. For just an instant, Gemma's eyes softened as she looked at the compact Asian man staring at her reflection. She caressed his face softly before she left him alone in her bedroom.

"Wow," Van Pelt said as a new Gemma Patrick entered CBI headquarters. Gemma gave her a slightly wolfish smile as she looked Van Pelt over critically, before nodding in satisfaction.

"I could make a killing in this outfit," Gemma commented. "Are we all ready?"

"Yes," Grace said, dressed in the slightly severe light grey pant suit Gemma had picked out for her, with a dark maroon silk undershirt peeking through the suit coat. Her red hair was pulled back into an elegant ponytail, and Gemma had handed her a pair of small drop gold earrings that now dangled teasingly at Van Pelt's long neck, and had let Grace keep her favorite gold necklace. Grace had to admit Gemma had a masterful eye for style. The suit definitely made Van Pelt into an appropriate personal assistant to a wealthy woman, but also accented her best features while minimizing her slightly stocky waist. It even hid the discrete gun holster at Grace's side.

"Ok, let's get this party started then," Gemma said, and led the way to the waiting car. It was driven by a CBI agent Gemma didn't know, but to whom Grace nodded in friendly recognition.

Lisbon and Jane were to watch the auction, and everyone would pretend not to know each other. Rigsby and Cho were to head to the Malibu house and start up the surveillance equipment. Once Gemma had purchased the painting, Lisbon and Jane would "offer" CBI assistance that Gemma would gracefully accept once she was informed of the string of robberies. Van Pelt would then be her intermediary with the police, as well as acting as a bodyguard for Gemma. Jane and Lisbon would camp out in the surveillance room at the Malibu house while Rigsby and Cho did the same in the hidden surveillance van.

Grosser's Art Auction House was a small but ostentatious building. Gemma and Grace filed in with all the other prospective art buyers, and took a seat near the back. Gemma smoothed her silk pants, then leaned over to murmur in Van Pelt's ear.

"Just so you know," Gemma said, "I will be bidding on several items. It won't matter if I win them or not, but I have to look like a serious buyer, not someone with an agenda. Just go with the flow, okay?"

"Alright," Grace agreed.

The morning passed swiftly. Gemma leafed though the auction booklet, and proceeded to bid on several items she found interesting. Grace found herself wide eyed a bit as Gemma got into a bidding war with an older gentleman over a small 14th century Italian prayer book, before Gemma finally gave in with a graceful nod.

"Pity," Gemma commented to Grace afterward, "I would have liked that book."

"But it was over $50,000!" Van Pelt protested, her mind refusing to comprehend spending that kind of money. Gemma just winked at her, before turning back to the next item up, a lovely silk screen painting from 18th century China. That piece she won, as well as the illuminated bible from 11th century Germany. The older man who had won the Italian prayer book tipped an imaginary hat to her when Gemma outbid him, and Gemma smiled coolly in response.

Finally, the French painting was up. Gemma didn't bother to bid for several passes, and Grace shot her a nervous glance. Finally, when it looked as if Gemma would lose it, she indicated her bid. It was over in a flash, and suddenly Gemma was the winner. She appeared nonchalant. The next item was an icon out of Croatia, and a much better painting. Gemma proceeded to drive the price up with careful last moment bidding, before finally letting it go with a pretty pout. After she lost, she gave an obvious sigh and stood up. Grace hurried after her as Gemma went to complete her purchases.

"Why did you do that?" Grace asked when they were out of earshot. "Bid on the next painting so much?"

"So it would seem that I was actually here for that painting, not the French one," Gemma explained. "These kinds of long games are based on appearances, the small details. I was bidding on certain things for a reason, and the French painting fit in but was hardly the main prize. That icon would have been."

"Oh," Grace replied. "What will you do with the other two?"

Gemma just smiled. "Probably donate the bible to UC Davis Theology department museum, and I think I will keep the silk screen. It is a lovely piece. The real question is what am I going to do with that horrid French woman's painting."

Grace let herself laugh a little at that. She had to agree, the woman in their bait painting was certainly unpleasant looking.

A few complicated electronic payments later, and Gemma Patrick suddenly was an art owner. Lisbon and Jane waited, and then asked to speak to her with the supervising manager of the Grosser Art House.

It went over with surprising ease, with the manager none the wiser. Jane was convinced it was an inside job, someone connected to the Grosser Art House, so they let no one outside the CBI know what was going on. Arrangements were made for delivery the next morning to the Malibu house, then they were done. Gemma and Grace slipped into the waiting car and were delivered to the beach house. They both took out their bags, and Gemma unlocked the door.

Once inside, Gemma paused a moment, her face unreadable as she stared for a moment up the stairs. Van Pelt looked at her in concern.

"It must be hard, coming back to this house," the red head said gently. Gemma looked into her eyes, and nodded.

"Yes," Gemma agreed softly. "Thank you."

"For what?" Grace asked in confusion.

Gemma smiled, the façade of the California socialite forgotten and her naturally warm eyes returning. "For trying to understand. It's a surprisingly rare trait in people. Come on, let's get settled."

About three hours later, Jane and Lisbon entered the kitchen to find Gemma and Grace laughing over something inconsequential. They had several fashion magazines open, and Gemma was making fun of some of the crazy fashions the magazine thought brilliant. Jane hung back a moment, smiling slightly at the sight of his Gemma engaging in silly girl talk.

"I always hated those fashion shows," Gemma was saying. "The only thing useful about them was learning the language of fashion, what makes what work. And the alcohol."

Grace laughed into her glass. "The alcohol?"

"Of course! Those models weren't going to eat, but they all drank like sailors," Gemma snorted. "And you would not believe what some of the men would do to get their attention."

"As I recall, you got your fair share of admirers, Sparky," Jane pointed out as he finally entered. "And you were underage for the alcohol at those things."

"Nervous?" Gemma challenged with a raised eyebrow. She had pulled her curled hair into a loose ponytail, but her tasteful makeup remained, giving her almond eyes and bronzed skin a sophisticated glow.

"Very," Jane replied calmly, refusing to rise to the bait. Gemma just snorted again.

"Where are Rigsby and Cho?" Lisbon asked as she pulled off her light jacket and laid it over a tall bar chair.

"It's Cho's shift in the lookout van, so Rigsby is napping. It is going to very boring to be them, isn't it?" Gemma asked.

"The exciting life of undercover surveillance," Lisbon agreed. "Thanks for setting up that little room in back for them, though. It even has a bathroom so we don't have to share with them. Were they maid's quarters?"

"Yes," Jane replied. "But we never had a live in housekeeper. It ended up being a guest bedroom, once Sparky here took over the actual guest bedroom."

Gemma shrugged. "Best view of the beach in the house short of upstairs. Coffee, Agent Lisbon? We have some cookies too."

Lisbon brightened a little once she saw the chocolate chip cookies, and nibbled delicately on one with her steaming coffee. Jane decided to take a few cookies to Cho, and when he got back, the three women where again laughing. Judging by Grace's embarrassment, Gemma's impish look and Lisbon's teasing grin, he had a suspicion they had been talking about him. He decided he didn't want to know.

"So, what do we do now?" Gemma finally asked Lisbon.

"We wait," Lisbon replied. "The robberies are always three nights after the auctions. So, this is night one."

"If we are lucky, we might catch them casing the house," Grace added.

"It's a long shot," Lisbon cautioned. "But it would be worth it if we could figure out how they case their targets."

Gemma found herself suppressing a yawn. The clock was passing midnight, and her body was ready for rest. Soon the others followed suit. Lisbon decided to sleep in the living room, her delicate frame fitting easily into the large couch. Van Pelt took the small bed in the den now filled with the closed circuit monitors and Gemma her old room. Jane declared himself not sleepy yet, and sat in the kitchen for awhile doing one of his puzzle books.

Eventually, when the house had gone quiet with sleeping people, Jane decided to try to get some sleep. He flicked off the low kitchen light, and as he walked in the dark toward the stairs, he glanced at Lisbon asleep on the couch.

Her face looked peaceful, with one hand tucked under her head. Pale moonlight caressed her face, giving the angles of her face an ethereal edge. He paused, staring at Lisbon for a moment. She shifted slightly in her slumber, and Jane found himself gently unfolding a small throw blanket and laying it gently over her petite body. He brought it up over her shoulders, and she gave a soft sigh as he tucked it in. A single, slender lock of her dark hair had drifted free and crossed under her long, dark lashes to cling to the edge of her mouth. Jane reached out with a single finger and lightly brushed it back behind her ear. It felt like living silk as he smoothed it into place, and no one was around to see his fond smile.

Then he turned, and headed upstairs to a locked room where a baleful, red face endlessly mocked him.


	7. Shattered Glass

**Author's Note: I'm not really sure if I have conveyed Gemma's issue with Jane clearly in this chapter, so feedback is greatly appreciated! It's a complicated sort of issue they have, and trying to show it instead of just telling about it is a bit tricky. Please, let me know your thoughts!**

**Chapter 7-Shattered Glass**

Morning found the Malibu beach house surprisingly peaceful. Lisbon woke slowly as the morning sunlight crept in through the huge windows, and was a little surprised by the light blanket embracing her. She felt her muscles stretch deliciously, and grunted softly in relief when her back popped. She rolled into a sitting position, and spotted Gemma sipping a glass of orange juice while reading the paper in the kitchen.

Gemma's long hair was in a long braid, with just a few wisps of hair escaping to frame her round face as she read, and the dark woman wrapped in a light sweater over her pale blue camisole. The scent of fresh coffee nudged Lisbon more awake, and her body demanded a trip to the bathroom. Lisbon tried to smooth her slightly tangled hair as she made her way, rubbing the grit from her eyes.

Patrick Jane stepped out of the upstairs bedroom, and quietly locked the door behind him. He was fully dressed, his blond curls combed and freshly shaven. He hadn't bothered to put on his suit coat, and was dressed in a light blue linen shirt underneath his dark grey vest and lighter grey pants. Gemma glanced up as she heard him come downstairs, and Jane saw her expression of shock turning into something more volatile as she realized where he had come from, and what it meant.

"You slept up there?" Gemma demanded, hurt anger making her velvet voice dangerously soft. Her dark eyes were wide.

"Well, yes," Jane admitted as he entered the kitchen. Gemma's eyes narrowed as she looked at him.

"You've done it before," she stated. It wasn't a question. Jane realized she was getting upset, and looked away as he shrugged. Trying to act nonchalant, he started to fix his morning tea.

"How could you?" Gemma hissed. "How can you sleep up there with that….that thing on the wall!"

Jane didn't answer for a moment, before he turned and looked solemnly at the copper skinned woman. "It makes me feel closer to them," he admitted softly. Gemma's angry look turned to revulsion.

"Up there? You leave that horror on the wall, you sleep under it like some kind of ghoul, and it makes you feel closer to them?" Gemma demanded as Lisbon walked in. Lisbon froze at the edge of the kitchen island as she felt the tension in the room.

"I've never asked you to get rid…." Gemma started. Jane cut her off with a sharp gesture.

"And you won't," Jane said, his own tone growing cold, defensive. Blue-green eyes locked with deep brown, and neither was willing to back down.

"I will burn this house to ash if that is what it takes!" Gemma almost yelled, standing up, dark eyes flashing. "I can't believe I let you keep that monstrosity! I should have gotten rid of it myself years ago!"

"You will do no such thing," Jane said, trying to keep his voice level but Lisbon was startled by the angry edge in his tone. Gemma's grip on her glass tightened.

"Wait, what the hell is going on here?" Lisbon broke in, confused.

"Yes, Patrick Jane, why don't you tell her?" Gemma said, her voice dripping like acid. "Tell the lovely Agent Lisbon just what you keep up in that damned bedroom! That you desecrate their memory by keeping that thing like some kind of sick shrine you actually sleep under!"

"It is none of her business," Jane replied angrily. "And none of yours either, Gemma Patrick! This is still my house, and you will not interfere in what you don't understand!"

Glass shattered on the cabinet door next to Jane's head. Both Lisbon and Jane flinched as shards of glass sprayed, streaks of forgotten juice marring the wood surface.

"Damn it, Gemma," Jane said as a piece of glass slipped from his shoulder to the floor. "Clean that up!"

"It's your house," Gemma spat his words back at him. "You do it!"

The dark haired woman stormed out of the kitchen, all but knocking the entering Grace to the ground, and slammed her bedroom door. Lisbon stared at Jane in shock as he put both his hands on the kitchen counter, and drew in a deep breath. She could see him bring his rage back under control.

"What was that all about?" Grace asked in confusion, looking where Gemma stormed off too. Jane just shook his head.

"Don't worry about it," Jane said, before walking out and disappearing down the hall. Lisbon and Grace exchanged looks. Lisbon had known Patrick Jane a long time, but this show of temper was a new entity. Even when pursuing Red John, when Lisbon could see the burning, obsessive rage behind his gaze, he kept a tight lid on his anger. Lisbon couldn't help but look up to those two locked rooms, and wonder.

Jane walked down the hallway, steaming. He suddenly felt closed in, trapped and almost ran out onto the wide, white deck overlooking the beach. He ran his fingers through his blond curls before leaning over the edge, trying to understand what had just happened. He was already regretting his harsh response to Gemma, responding out of a defensive desire to keep everyone away from this darkest of secrets. Even he didn't really understand why he left that red face on the wall, why he slept underneath it from time to time. Only that it kept him connected to his wife and child in a twisted, bitter way. His guilty rage consumed him, and the sometimes the only thing that kept the anger from driving him mad again was that mocking red smile. It gave him something to focus on outside himself.

He felt someone appear by his side, but didn't look. The soft scent of faded cinnamon-laced perfume reached him.

"You ok?" Lisbon asked softly, mirroring his pose on the deck. The ocean breeze teased her dark hair free, and brushed it across her cheek to her lips. As she patted it back behind her ear, the ghost of a memory teased her, but she let it slip away.

"I'm fine," Jane replied, his voice almost normal. The stood that way in silence for a while, shoulders brushing lightly. The warm, gently breeze began to soothe Jane, and he slowly relaxed.

"What is upstairs?" Lisbon finally asked as they both didn't look at each other. Jane didn't answer, and after a minute, Lisbon realized he wasn't going to.

Down on the beach, Lisbon saw the tall, dark haired woman appear. She was walking angrily, and Cho was almost running to keep up with her angry stalk on the sand. Finally, Cho caught her and forced her to turn toward him. They spoke for a moment, distance stealing their conversation away, before Gemma's angry posture eased and she was embraced by the small, compact man. Lisbon had to smile a little at the tender way Cho was stroking her hair, slightly rocking her as they clung to each other. Cho glanced toward the blond man leaning on the deck with an angry look.

Gemma leaned back, and used her hand to turn Cho's face back toward her. She said something that turned Cho's look from anger to slight confusion, but he nodded to something she asked, and kissed her softly. They walked back toward the house, Cho's arm wrapped around her shoulders as she leaned into his embrace.

Lisbon sighed slightly, knowing she should be on Cho's case for abandoning his post, and realized she wouldn't. Kimball Cho probably got Rigsby to cover for him while he chased his girlfriend down the beach anyway.

"Lovebirds," she said wryly instead. Jane cracked a slight smile. "Do you think they are going to get married?"

"Not anytime soon," Jane replied. "Cho has been resisting marriage for almost as long as he can remember, and Gemma is terrified of marrying our father."

"Really?" Lisbon asked, curiosity piqued. "You never talk about him."

"No," Jane said, "I suppose I don't."

"What was he like?" Lisbon pressed slightly, glad to move the conversation away from the early morning fight. Jane seemed inclined to agree, and actually shared.

"He was funny, but in a sarcastic, biting way," Jane replied. "He was a good father to me, and maybe even a good husband to my mother in his own way. But he never met a woman he didn't want to sleep with, and rarely met a woman he couldn't seduce."

"Ah," Lisbon said. "That explains Gemma. I can see why she would be skittish, if he was her role model."

"Yes," Jane agreed. "But it was more than that. My father was a lot of things, but he was a real ass when it came to Gemma. He didn't want me associating with her in anyway. He refused to admit she was his, even after I showed him a DNA test we did once we got suspicious. I lost a lot of respect for my father over that. I swore I'd never be that kind of man."

Lisbon looked at Jane's profile, noting the strong shape of his nose and chin, the slight creases at the corner of his slightly downward slanted eyes. She had always known Jane had been a loving, loyal husband and dedicated father, but now knew just how deep it went and why. Lisbon felt an odd ache in her chest, as she realized Jane may never move on from his lost family.

"Do you think there are other Jane's out there, then?" Lisbon asked instead.

Jane shrugged, straightening. "Maybe. Probably. But we may never know. It was pure chance Gemma and I even met," he sighed. He finally looked at Lisbon, smiling ruefully into her fig green eyes. "I suppose I should go make up with that tempestuous shrew of a secret sister of mine."

"Only if that arrogant, twisted twirp of a secret brother of mine will admit this house brings out the worst in both of us," a velvet voice said from behind them. Lisbon had to smile at that comment, and turned to see Gemma framed at the sliding doors. It felt good when the two hugged tightly. Jane kissed Gemma's forehead, and she placed her cheek on his shoulder for a moment before looking deep into his eyes.

"I still think it is sick, keeping that thing up there," Gemma declared, "but I won't interfere. For now."

"I know," Jane replied. "I wish I could explain why I keep it, but I will promise to get rid of it once I get that bastard."

Gemma paused a moment, before nodding in acceptance. "I suppose I should mention this then."

"Mention what?" Jane asked, slightly wary.

"When you do kill him, I'm burning this house to the ground," Gemma stated calmly, ignoring the fact that she was talking freely in front of an officer of the law. Lisbon blinked. Jane looked thoughtful, thinking it over.

"Fair enough," Jane said after a moment. "Assuming Lisbon here doesn't arrest you for attempted arson."

"When we catch Red John," Lisbon said with a warning look at Jane, "I will bring the marshmallows."


	8. Night Two

**Chapter 8—Night Two**

Van Pelt looked up nervously when Gemma, Jane and Lisbon returned to the kitchen. Whatever had made the dark haired woman and blond consultant so angry with each other seemed to have vanished as if it never existed. Gemma flashed a slightly guilty look at the red-head before stooping to help clean up the broken glass.

"You didn't have to clean that up," Gemma said contritely.

"It's no problem," Grace replied.

"No, it is," Gemma replied, gently prying the dustpan from Van Pelt's hand and taking over. "I tend to be destructive when I get angry. But I've never expected anyone else to clean up my messes."

Grace glanced at Lisbon, who gave her a slight nod. The red haired woman reluctantly stood up.

"What happened, anyway?" Van Pelt asked. She saw Jane glance at Lisbon's curious expression, and then away.

"I gave Sparky here an unpleasant surprise," Jane said with a slight grin, irrepressible as always. "She overreacted."

"And Janey should have known better," Gemma chimed in with an arch look as she shook the broken juice glass into the garbage, and started to wipe the drying juice from the cabinet. "But it's over now."

"Just like that?" Lisbon asked incredulously. The blue eyed man and dark eyed woman exchanged an amused look, remembering a very different woman asking that exact same question in this kitchen long ago, in a much different life. It had taken Jane's wife a lot longer to understand their complicated style of communication.

"Yes," they said together, then laughed. Grace smiled uncertainly, and Lisbon just rolled her eyes.

"Alright," Lisbon said, deciding enough was enough. "When does our bait arrive?"

"That's what I came earlier to tell everyone," Van Pelt said, brushing her loosely tied hair flat. She was still in her morning running gear. Her black running shirt hugged her generous curves, and her dark shin length pants rode low enough to flash the pale skin of her abdomen as she moved. Gemma ironically thought that it was probably a good thing Rigsby was trapped in the garage at the moment.

"Grosser's called, they said they would come at 11 am," Van Pelt finished.

Lisbon glanced at her watch, and was surprised to see that it was only now approaching 9 am.

Gemma nodded, the morning drama forgotten."Perfect, I do love an early delivery time," she said with a mischievous smile. "Grace, when they arrive, you will answer the door and direct them to the living room. Just put our lovely purchases wherever you think they might look good. Feel free to dither about it, too."

"Dither?" Jane asked with a smile. He leaned near Lisbon's ear to softly speak. "Not a word used often enough." Lisbon suppressed a smile, and the soft shiver his golden voice triggered.

"What do you mean?" Grace asked in slight confusion.

"Be indecisive, fussy about where you want them," Gemma explained. "The personal assistant like you is expected to practically read my mind about where I want things. I won't even be here at first. I'll just wander in once the real work is done. There's an easel in my car we can mount the painting on. I don't want the horrid thing on the wall. Creepy," Gemma shuddered dramatically with a little grin.

"Okay, let's make sure everything is ready," Lisbon said, eyeing Van Pelt's running gear and suggesting with a look that the tall woman change. "Triple check everything. I will go check on Rigsby and Cho. Those external cameras need to be secured as well."

A few brief hours later, a crew of six people pulled up to the Malibu home. Grace played her role to perfection, despite her nerves. Two of the workmen were more than happy to let the beautiful agent fuss over the perfect placement of the silk screen and painting. Eventually, Gemma entered the living room and calmly took over. Her dark eyes flickered over the workers, but she was all proper smiles and thanks as they filed out the door an hour later.

When the last man had left, Gemma leaned her back against the door and smiled directly into one of the hidden cameras hidden in the track lighting.

"Did you see it?" she asked the invisible camera, her grin getting wider. Grace put her leather portfolio filled with fake paperwork and lists on the table, and watched Gemma almost giggle as she closed the front door.

"See what?" Van Pelt asked, easing out of her high stiletto heels with a relieved sigh.

"The delivery crew," Gemma said triumphantly as Jane and Lisbon entered. Jane had the self satisfied smile of a man who had figured out a great puzzle.

"The delivery crew," Jane echoed in delight. "They are how our thief is casing the houses! It's brilliant!"

"The delivery crew," Grace said thoughtfully. "You have to let the delivery crew in your house when they drop off whatever art they are moving."

"A pair of sharp eyes, and you can see basically everything you need to know right there in front of you!" Gemma added gleefully.

Lisbon turned to Grace. "If you are done being secretary to the stars, could you run a background on Mr. Li's moving services. Start with those guys who just left."

"Right boss," Van Pelt said promptly, and hurried away.

By nightfall, the CBI agents had established the names and locations of the delivery crew. A few had criminal records, three including burglary. Lisbon had been for arresting the entire crew immediately, but Jane pointed out they still didn't know which, if any of them, was their elusive thief. Locking them all up could spook their real target. So they compromised, and Lisbon called Minelli to arrange discrete surveillance of the work crew. All in all, the CBI team decided Night Two had been well spent.

Tonight, the moon was again nearly full. The usual oppressive silence of the house had eased into a comfortable quiet, like the house was waiting for something again. Grace and Lisbon were talking softly to Rigsby in the living room, Cho trapped in the garage surveillance van for a few minutes more before it was Rigsby's 6 hour shift. They had left Gemma and Jane alone in the kitchen.

"I like her," Gemma said suddenly. Jane looked at her questioningly, nursing his tea. "Lisbon. I like her."

Jane could only give a cheerful grin in response. "What brought this on?"

Gemma looked at Jane a moment, debating whether or not to say anything. Finally, she decided she had too, for everyone's sake.

"She's strong," she said, almond eyes deep and serious. "Stronger than almost anyone I've ever met. I love you, Janey, but I don't always understand you anymore. And she does."

"And?" Jane asked, putting down his teacup.

"Show her," Gemma said softly. "I'm never going up those stairs again. Ever. But you can't stay alone up there anymore. Someone needs to be able to follow you up there. And this time, it can't be me."

"No," Jane tried to leave, but Gemma caught his arm in a firm grip, holding him in place even though he refused to look at her.

"Yes," Gemma said firmly but gently. "I'm sorry I can't accept what you have done up there. A part of me wishes I could, but I can't. Every time you go up to that bedroom, I'm terrified you won't come back out again. And you need someone to bring you back. She can."

Jane stared ahead, refusing to meet her eyes. Gemma sighed, and let him go. Jane faded into the shadows of his old living room once the others had left. After a while, Gemma headed toward the back of the house, and Jane suspected she was going to see Cho. Grace slipped into the shower, and then to bed. Lisbon made a few more phone calls, double and triple checking on her stakeout crews, before coming back into the living room.

At some point, she had changed into a pair of loose sweatpants and small tee shirt with faded print. Not her usual sleepwear, Jane was willing to bet, but more functional considering she was on the job. Lisbon jumped a little when she saw Jane sitting in a darkened corner.

"Jane, you startled me," Lisbon said, her voice taking a hint of irritation. Jane didn't speak, just looked at her for a minute. "What's wrong?"

Jane shook his head, and gave a brittle, rueful smile. He stood up, and nearly walked past the petite woman before he stopped. He looked down to the floor, chewing on the inside of his lower lip, blue eyes haunted. Finally, he took his house keys from his pocket and stared at them in his palm. Lisbon was quiet, waiting, knowing Jane was thinking hard, wondering where this unusually raw moment would lead him.

Jane took Lisbon's hand, and turned the palm up. He rubbed his thumb along her palm, sending a small thrill through Lisbon she couldn't explain. Then he set the keys in her hand and closed her fingers over them.

"I trust you, Lisbon," Jane said quietly, then walked toward the deck. "You wanted to know."

Lisbon felt her mouth drop open, and could only stare at Jane's back as he leaned over the deck's edge, the night breeze playing with his golden curls. She turned toward the stairs, and after a moment of thought, walked up. She unlocked the first door, just to the right.

The door swung open to a mostly empty room. The carpet held the deep indentations of missing furniture. The walls were painted with faded butterflies and flowers, paled by the moonlight. In one far corner was a small chair, just big enough for a little girl, with a ragged brown bear on it. The bear listed to one side, forlornly waiting for a mistress who would never come. Lisbon felt her heart break, and silently closed and locked the door again.

With a ragged breath, Lisbon turned to the second door. Not sure she wanted to see, she turned the lock. The door opened, and Lisbon caught her breath.

Staring back at her was a familiar, taunting face. The crimson color had long since dried to brown, but the mocking image still stared at her. Again, Lisbon noted signs of missing furniture in the carpet, the faded spots on the blank walls. A simple mattress with a thin blanket rested under that hateful symbol. Lisbon found herself walking into the center of that empty space, and looked around. She noted Jane's overnight bag in the master bath just off to the side, before her gaze was pulled inevitably back to the wall.

She felt more than heard Jane pass behind her as he crossed to the large bay windows on the other side of the room. When she turned, the blond man was gazing out to the endless ocean, his arms crossed as he held himself. She walked up to him, and when he finally looked at her his mask was gone. All that remained was his fatigue, his self-loathing and the burning anger that was as much for himself as the maker of that horrid face on the wall.

Lisbon stared at Jane with no trace of pity or judgment. He felt himself almost start to cry at the empathy in her fig green eyes, and had to close his eyes before he lost control. Lisbon tilted her head to one side, and suddenly couldn't resist brushing a stray lock of hair from his brow. She had to rise up on her toes to reach, and was so close to his face when he opened his eyes again. Their eyes locked, and the moment stretched.

Jane leaned a little closer, and Lisbon reacted by turning slightly to the side. Her lips met the outside corner of his, and Jane pressed his cheek into the kiss she left. He hands unclenched, almost reaching out but not quite able to complete the motion. When Lisbon leaned back, her expression was one of patient understanding. She took his suddenly nerveless hands and pressed the keys into them, closing his fingers over the cool metal.

Then she walked away, closing the door softly behind her.


	9. Dreaming

**Chapter 9-Dreaming**

Lisbon woke to the sound of rain. It was 3 am and the large house was quiet. She shifted slightly on the couch, pulling the thin blanket up over her chest and her green eyes stared up into the darkened ceiling. She could make out just the shadows of the wooden beams that arched above, and the rain played a gentle, soothing rhythm.

It was eerie, Lisbon decided, to be sleeping in this house. Her mind turned restlessly over what she had seen upstairs, that sinister face drawn in the blood of Jane's wife and the empty room of his daughter. It had taken her an hour to fall asleep after leaving Jane alone upstairs, and her sleep had been restless. She could still feel the rough stubble of Jane's cheek, his warm vanilla scent. But she had understood, after a fashion, why he was still up there, why he couldn't leave. It made her chest ache, and she wondered if Jane would ever really walk out of that bedroom again.

A soft clink from the kitchen attracted Lisbon's attention. Gemma was fussing quietly, and Lisbon caught the faint scent of mint. Giving up on sleep for the moment, she padded barefoot into the large sink. Gemma glanced up with a tired smile, her large brown eyes half closed as she slowly woke up.

"Shouldn't you be distracting Cho?" Lisbon joked, sliding onto a bar stool at the breakfast counter.

Gemma gave a surprised snort of laughter, and she flashed a pouty look that was spoiled by her slight smile. "Oh, believe me, I tried. But he is all business right now. The true professional, much to my despair."

Lisbon grinned. "So why up so late?"

"Or early, depending on how you look at it," Gemma replied, putting the last touch of honey into her tea with a shrug. "Can't sleep. I hope I didn't wake you. Care for a cup of tea?"

"Nah," Lisbon said with a shake. "I'm not much for tea. A coffee woman, all the way. But I couldn't sleep either. You didn't wake me." The two women were silent for a moment as the rain started to ease. Lisbon decided the rain was heavier, somehow, so close to the ocean.

"He showed you upstairs," Gemma said, sipping her tea and eyeing the smaller woman over the rim of her cup. Lisbon raised one shoulder in acknowledgement. "Good. Because I can't ever go up there again. After this sting of yours is over, I'm not ever coming back to this house again until I come to burn it to the ground."

"I had hoped you were joking about that," Lisbon commented, getting herself a glass of cool water.

"No," Gemma said, "Do you have to arrest me for planning arson now?"

Lisbon sighed, looking away to the ocean hazy with rainfall. "I should," Lisbon said sighed. "You are planning a crime, and as an officer of the law, I should arrest you."

"Things aren't always so easy with the ones you love," Gemma commented. Lisbon looked at her, surprised.

"Love? Gemma, I like you. Don't take this the wrong way, but I don't love you," Lisbon said quickly.

"I wasn't talking about me," Gemma replied calmly. Lisbon found herself blushing, and tried to get herself under control. A pair of dark eyes smiled slightly, but decided not to tease at this time of the night.

"I don't…" Lisbon tried to say.

"Yes, you do," Gemma interrupted her confidently. "There is no shame in it. Cut yourself a little slack, woman, and let that heart of yours off its short leash. He's worth caring about, even if he doesn't believe it himself."

"But I can't..." Lisbon sputtered. Gemma cut her off with an amused snort.

"Cannot, should not. Those are words that have no meaning when it comes to the heart," Gemma replied, her almond eyes oddly soft.

"I haven't had the best of luck," Lisbon said after a moment. "Especially mixing work and personal life. It never ends well."

Gemma shrugged nonchalantly. "What does?" she replied. "Patrick doesn't know about half of the mistakes I have made. Every woman has fallen for the wrong guy. Most guys have that psycho girlfriend in the background. The only thing I wonder is how long you will be patient."

Lisbon could only look away, unable to answer. Gemma sat across from her, and waited quietly until Lisbon met her eyes.

"I love him too," Gemma said. "But there are some things I simply can't do for him anymore. Not and stay sane myself. Until he ends his obsession, he can't heal, can't become whole again. But I have to move on. I am moving on, finally. I should be warning you away, telling you not to get sucked in."

"But you aren't," Lisbon said. "Why?"

Gemma sighed, drinking the last of her mint tea and standing to head back to bed. "Because I think you may be his only chance now. He has two points on his compass now. Red John to the west, and Teresa Lisbon to the east. The two anchors fighting for his soul. So I am not warning you away, because I'm selfish. I want you to win, because then I might get my Patrick Jane back."

Later, the dark haired agent settled her small frame back onto the couch, and drifted off to sleep with Gemma's comments in her mind. Her dreams became restless, fractured.

She was walking up those stairs again, and suddenly was in the bedroom, staring at a red smiley face dripping fresh blood down the wall. Then she was in the CBI office, staring at his weathered brown couch. She turned, to feel the strong arms of Jane around her as he leaned in close, agile hands on her hips as he pulled her close. Her mind replayed the kiss, only this time she didn't turn into his check but felt the soft give of his lips. Her mouth opened slightly, and the moist tip of his tongue brushed hers, the heady scent of vanilla around her. She heard herself moan softly and felt her body arch into his warm embrace as she blinked her eyes open in the early dawn light, sleep slowly giving way as her muddled mind cleared.

Jane was leaning in close above her, his blue eyes twinkling as Lisbon suddenly blushed at his proximity. Her vivid dream was still very fresh.

"Jane, what the hell?" Lisbon demanded, covering with her slightly cranky way in the morning until after her first cup of coffee.

"Morning, sleepy head," he said cheerfully, already fully dressed. "Time to get up, sunshine. We have a thief to catch today!" And with that, he was gone.

Lisbon struggled to sit up, untangling herself from the thin blanket. As her mind began to come into focus, she paused. She licked her full lips, her fig green eyes confused at the unfamiliar taste.

Slightly bitter tea, with just a splash of milk.


	10. Just an early morning run

**Author's Note: Just a bit of writers block on the case at hand, but I had already written this vingnette!**

**Chapter 10-Just an early morning run**

Gemma woke earlier than usual for her, despite her restless sleep. Her dreams were disconcerting in this house, pieces of memory and wishing mixed with grief and anger. Not for the first time over the last few days, Gemma was forced to admit a hard truth to herself.

She hated this house.

She didn't want to. It had been her first, true home. The first place where she had felt loved and truly safe. Her first kiss had been on that very beach outside. She had been picked up for prom at this front door, had her first broken heart healed by watching sappy movies with Jane's wife in this living room. She had danced in glee in that kitchen when she got into graduate school, and ate nothing but popcorn and ice cream in this bedroom for days after her car was stolen. So many wonderful memories had been made inside these walls, such laughter and homey little scenes.

All turned to ash by what happened later.

Getting out of bed, Gemma dressed and quickly braided her hair into a hasty braid. She saw in the mirror that her dark eyes were becoming hollowed out, with dark rings as days if fitful, incomplete rest gradually caught up with her. The really frustrating part was that she couldn't even see Cho much, despite him being only feet from her bed. He was on the job, and refused to be distracted. The dark haired woman had to smile ruefully at the realization that Kimball Cho loved his job, and she could never compete with it. If that fact hadn't been so attractive to her in the first place, her frustration would have been much less bearable.

A few minutes and some running shoes later, Gemma had slipped into an easy pace as she ran down the beachside road. Truthfully, she didn't run much, preferring swimming and aerobics. But today, the demons in this house had given her a restless energy she felt the need to burn off. As she jogged down the road, she spotted a woman with red hair jogging ahead of her.

"Van Pelt," Gemma said, breathing heavily, as she pulled beside the jogging agent, "fancy meeting you out here."

"Gemma," Grace replied, panting slightly. Gemma paced herself to the other woman's running. "I didn't know you ran."

"I don't, usually," Gemma replied, pleased she was only slightly breathless as they ran in unison. "You run every morning?"

"I try," Grace replied. "This place is gorgeous for an early morning run."

"Yes," Gemma agreed, glancing around. "Follow me! Let's see if my old running route is still here."

With that, Gemma veered off onto a bike path that plunged away from the beach. After a moment, Van Pelt followed the dark eyed woman as she led them down a twisting path in a small, wooded park. They ran companionably until they left the park and came out onto the small street of the local businesses. The two women jogged happily down the nearly empty street, passing the occasional fellow runner or cyclist with a jaunty wave. Van Pelt noted they passed stores selling shoes and purses worth more than she made in a month, and no price tags were anywhere to be seen. She remembered what her mother had once said, passing stores like this. If you had to ask about the price, you couldn't afford what was in the window. She mentioned that to Gemma, who snorted in laugher.

"Sad, but true," Gemma said. "The people who shop here spend more money on a whim than you and I will spend in months."

"But you are one of these people," Van Pelt pointed out as they rounded a corner and headed down a slight hill that curved back to the beach. Neither tall, fit woman paid any attention to the admiring looks of several of the men they passed. "You aren't exactly the hoi polloi."

"Hoi polloi? Now there is a phrase not said enough," Gemma said. "Sure, I have money, but I also work for a living. The people in this neck of Malibu are the wealthy on a scale you can't even imagine. Most of it is old money out here, not the new movie star LA money. Generations of family adding to that pile of wealth, a lot linked to the old dynasties on the East Coast. These million dollar homes you see here? Vacation homes, weekend getaways. That's all."

"Wow," Grace said softly, as they approached the beach. Their running pace slowed on the sand, but they continued to run in synch together. They were laughing a little because another male runner had stumbled as they passed him. Womanly laughter floated ahead of them as they neared the Malibu beach house again, and Jane was leaning out over the deck as he watched them approach. The tall, lushly full figured Van Pelt and lithe, exotic Gemma were coated in a slight sheen of sweat, and the morning sun glinted in the east over the ocean. He waved to the two men in the living room out, and turned slightly to enjoy their expressions. Lisbon trailed curiously behind them.

Cho's eyes widened slightly, and he took a deep breath. Rigsby, however, looked like he had been hit on the back of the head.

"Whoa," Rigsby breathed. "They are hot."

"Smoking hot," Cho agreed, deadpan. Jane just smiled a little at them, seeing Lisbon roll her green eyes behind them. The two women slowed to a little jog as they neared the house, and Gemma waved up at them.

"Hey, Van Pelt," Lisbon called down, "hurry up. Living room in fifteen!"

"Yes, boss!" Van Pelt called out and picked up her pace as she ran inside to shower and change.

Gemma ran up the deck stairs and came to a stop, leaning over her knees as she caught her breath. Then she stretched out, leaning back as she reached for the sky. The lithe lines of her body were suddenly evident; the outlines of her full chest thrust a little forward as she took a deep breath, eyes closed. Her running shirt rode up slightly, showing the soft skin of her surprisingly attractive belly button. Two small heart tattoos flashed on the soft swell of her lower belly, before sliding back underneath the low riding waistline of her jogging clothes.

Rigsby let out a little sound, half moan and half choking but all male. Cho glanced at him, and then poked him hard in the side with narrow eyes. Lisbon, for her part, decided to stay out of it.

"Ow," Rigsby said, rubbing his side. "What was that for?"

Cho just glared at him for a minute before walking inside, Rigsby following in confusion. Jane looked at Gemma, and smiled at her satisfied smirk.

"Tease," Jane commented.

"A girl likes to feel appreciated," was Gemma's only response as she went inside to clean up. Lisbon had to smile at the dark woman's mischievous nature, and looked back to Jane's profile as he stared out into the ocean.

The faint taste of bitter tea teased her memory, and she could only wonder.

"Was there something, Lisbon?" Jane asked calmly, his ocean blue eyes smiling as they caught hers. Lisbon wet her lips, and almost asked the question. Instead, the wind teased at her hair and stole her nerve.

"Nothing," Lisbon said finally, and escaped inside. Jane turned back to gaze at the morning beach, and brushed his thumb over his mouth, wondering what had come over him. Remembering the soft breath and warm surrender, even in sleep, and his confused yearning for a woman long lost mixed with a sudden longing for the one always at his side.

The warm ocean was the only witness to Patrick Jane's slightly bittersweet, thoughtful gaze.


	11. Guilty Again

**Chapter 11-Guilty again**

Jane hovered in the background during Lisbon's meeting. She went over assignments and contingency plans about tonight's anticipated robbery, and coordinated with the additional CBI agents to be posted outside the beach house. Once Lisbon had dismissed her Van Pelt, Rigsby and Cho back to their assigned roles, she picked up her phone and was updating Minelli. Jane briefly admired her cool and confident control of her team.

He eventually wandered into the kitchen, leaving his vest unbuttoned and sleeves rolled up. A freshly showered Gemma had taken once glance at the gathered CBI team, and deftly avoided in favor of the kitchen. She was pouring herself a bowl of cereal, as her dark eyes studied a small rectangular box on the counter.

"I see you found it," Jane commented with a little smile.

"What is it?" Gemma asked, then took a bite of her breakfast.

"We have a long, boring wait ahead of us today," Jane said as he opened the box and took out what was inside. Gemma's dark eyes lit up. "The others are going to be doing boring police stuff, so we have to entertain ourselves."

"A chess set?" Gemma said, putting down her bowl to study the heavy stone pieces. "Wait, this is our board. I thought it was lost!"

"I found it a few weeks ago," Jane said, caressing the black bishop with his thumb as Gemma studied the white king in delight. "Care to play?" he asked with a challenging look.

"Care to get another butt kicking?" Gemma replied with a fierce grin, hurriedly finishing her cereal. "Living room in five. I'll make the tea."

"Deal," Jane said as he gathered up the box.

In the living space, Jane rather carelessly moved Lisbon's papers off the table and onto a chair and set up the board. The small, green eyed agent watched curiously while she talked to someone at CBI headquarters. The dark chess pieces Jane laid out were made of dark obsidian, glossy and smooth. He gently placed them on the heavy wooden board, and then brought out the almost shockingly white alabaster pieces.

Hanging up, Lisbon picked up one of the alabaster pieces. It was lighter than it looked, and both sets were hand carved judging by the tool marks. The slightly rough surface of the alabaster rubbed her fingers when she set it back down, and examined the polished obsidian glass. Each piece was a carved human figure, thin but intricately detailed. The queens were true works of art, carved to look like angels with delicate wings. The kings looked forlorn on small thrones, and the knights had horses that reared up and looked almost real. The inside of the storage box had cloth lined slots for the pieces, and looked like part of a custom made set.

"This is beautiful," Lisbon said. "Where did you get it?"

Jane gave a shadowed smile. "It was a gift."

"Alright, tea is here!" Gemma said as she entered with two steaming cups. She looked positively gleeful as she handed Jane his expertly made tea. "Agent Lisbon! Do you play?"

Lisbon shook her dark hair and set the marble knight piece back down. "In high school, I tried to learn but never got the hang of it."

"Surprising," Jane said, "I bet you'd be good at it. All that planning ahead and marshalling the troops."

"Care to play?" Gemma offered as she and Jane settled themselves. Lisbon shook her head, eyes wide.

"No, I couldn't," Lisbon said, sounding a little flustered.

"Well, maybe later then," Gemma said before Jane could speak. She silenced him with a look. "I call white."

"You always do," Jane agreed and turned the board around.

The two played for almost two hours. Van Pelt and Lisbon would occasionally pause to watch, and once Cho came to see. The two had obviously played together for a long time, judging by the teasing comments and references to older games. Sometimes they would each move pieces in a flurry of rapid moves and countermoves, other times ponder for many minutes before making a single move. Lisbon quickly lost track of the game, but Jane appeared to be winning based on the number of alabaster statuettes he had on his side.

"Check and mate in 7 moves," Gemma suddenly declared with an arch smile. "Thought you had me there, didn't you."

"Damn," Jane said, studying the board before finally giving in and tipping his melancholy king in defeat. "You dreadful woman. Care to play again?"

"Yes," Gemma said as the two smiled at each other. "You set up, while I get us something to eat." Jane nodded and started to rearrange the board, while Gemma vanished into the kitchen.

"Boss, got a visitor coming," Rigsby's voice suddenly chirped out of the handsets Lisbon had handed out earlier.

"Who is it?" Lisbon asked, waving Jane over to the surveillance room. The tall, blond man followed her unspoken order for a change. Gemma returned with a couple of sandwiches, and set them down on the table as she followed the agents into the camera room.

"Don't know," Rigsby answered through the handset. "It's a woman, driving a silver BMW. She will be here in 2 minutes."

The small room had been converted into a room full of monitors, each one showing a different camera angle, both inside and outside the house. The one in the garage showed the large CBI surveillance van, and a brief image of Cho getting in the back quickly as he responded to the unexpected visitor. The only rooms not imaged were the upstairs bedrooms, although the stairway was prominently viewed. Van Pelt slid into position and started typing.

The image of a slender blond woman driving the car appeared, and both Gemma and Jane leaned in for a closer look as Van Pelt accessed one of her many databases.

"Run the plate," Lisbon ordered. Van Pelt was already entering in the numbers.

"Charity?" Gemma suddenly asked. Lisbon and Jane looked at the dark eyed woman curiously.

"Do you know her?" Lisbon tersely demanded.

"Charity Hoch," Gemma replied. "I went to high school with her. Janey, you remember her."

Jane looked again and just shook his head.

"Yes, you do," Gemma repeated. "Her mother was Faith Hoch. The woman who married the big oil guy, always trying to contact her dead grandfather? Kept trying to get you to sleep with her?"

Jane's expression turned to recognition. "Oh, yeah," he said softly, sounding less than happy.

"Car is registered to Charity Stocklin, LA address," Van Pelt reported.

"Wasn't she a redhead?" Jane suddenly asked.

"Yes, she was," Gemma replied as they briefly smiled at each other in amusement.

"Great," Lisbon broke in with a trace of irritation. "But why is she here now?"

"I don't know, but I guess I will just ask her in a minute," Gemma replied. "Grace, would you please answer the door? Just like with the delivery crew before."

Grace glanced at Lisbon for permission, and the small agent nodded briefly. "Everybody, be alert but stay in place. Don't blow our cover. Jane, you stay here with me.

Jane raised his eyebrows at Lisbon with a little smile & his eyes crinkled at the corners. Lisbon ignored his implied comment with the ease of long practice.

Van Pelt smoothed her pants, glad she had chosen one of the classy but practical outfits Gemma had picked out for her. She patted her hair briefly, fighting the fluttering in her stomach. She briefly glowered at herself for nerves, reminding herself she was a highly trained, competent officer of the law.

Plus, she had a gun.

Stomach settled, she opened the door after door chime sang out.

"Can I help you?" Van Pelt asked, coolly but politely just as Gemma had coached her.

The blond woman pulled off her sunglasses to reveal hazel eyes. Her face was a square but pretty, and her blond hair expertly styled with careful highlights. On close inspection, she had a nose that was just a little too perfect and lips just a trace too full to be entirely natural. She appeared nervous, and was holding her purse to her chest as if it was a shield.

"Yes, I am here to see Gemma Patrick," the woman said. "My name is Charity. We went to high school together."

"Come in, ma'am," Van Pelt replied smoothly. "Please, have a seat in the living room. I will be right back."

Charity settled on the couch, her posture stiff. Her bird bright eyes darted around the room as she waited. After a few minutes, Gemma came around the corner accompanied by Van Pelt. She had quickly re-braided her hair to be a little more smooth, and was sipping a bottle of water. She smiled when she saw Charity, friendly but reserved.

"Charity! It's been a long time!" Gemma asked, as the two women briefly hugged. "Thank you, Grace. That will be all." Van Pelt nodded on cue and returned to the surveillance room, leaving the two women alone. Gemma settled gracefully in the chair to the side of the couch, and gazed calmly at the other woman. The silence stretched awkwardly, and Gemma simply sipped at the water, unwilling to be the first to speak.

"You look good, Gem," Charity finally said, shifting on the couch. "What brings you back to Malibu?"

Gemma shrugged slightly. "I am seeing if I can come back to this house or not," she said with a ring of truth. "How did you know I was here?"

Charity giggled girlishly, and Gemma suppressed the urge to roll her eyes. "Oh, you remember Barney Bloom? He saw you running this morning with some sexy red head down by the beach. Your Grace, I presume. He called Claude Rainer, who told his sister Marie. Marie told Paulette Olsen, who called me."

Gemma felt herself smile. "Ah, nice to know the old spy network is still up and running," she commented. "So, what prompted this visit? If you don't mind me saying, we didn't exactly part the best of friends."

Charity sighed, and looked a little worried. "I'm sorry about that. I should have believed you."

"Yes, you should have," Gemma agreed solemnly, an old hurt in the back of her eyes. "I have to admit, even all these years later, it still hurts that you actually believed your boy of the moment over your friend. "

"I know," Charity agreed. "If it makes you feel better, I caught him banging my new roommate once you moved out of the dorm."

Gemma smirked slightly. "Oddly, it does. But I'm betting you came here to do more than apologize for a stupid fight over a boy almost 10 years ago. Is there a new cause you want me to contribute too? Just need another donor?"

"No, no," Charity said, her hazel eyes wide. "Gemma, I'm sorry. I was a bitch to you, and you are still big enough not to laugh in my face when I send out those charity flyers. The Jane Foundation has always been generous to my pet causes, I appreciate it. I really do."

"Not enough to apologize before today," Gemma pointed out, her voice calm.

"You aren't going to make this easy for me, are you?" Charity asked in exasperation. "In my defense, your lawyer wouldn't give me your address and you never showed up to any of the events I invited you too. You even skipped our reunion! When was I supposed to make my apology?"

Gemma sighed. Truthfully, she had long ago gotten over the childish fight."I'm sorry, Charity. You are right. I didn't exactly give you a chance to apologize. In any case it was a stupid fight over a stupid reason. So, friends again?"

Charity smiled in relief, and Gemma suddenly remembered the saucy, bubbly girl she had been, the organizer in her small circle of friends from high school. Charity had always gotten along with everyone, and knew everything that was going on. Gemma had been prickly even then, and a little sensitive to some of the comments made because of Patrick Jane's reputation and work. Despite that, Charity had taken to the dark haired, overly smart-mouthed girl from Montana and they had forged an unlikely alliance. Now a grown woman, Charity had turned her social butterfly tendencies into a successful career in fundraising for various charities.

"I would like that," Charity said, almost shyly. Gemma let herself relax, but could almost feel the hidden Lisbon's impatience to get rid of this unexpected complication.

"So, Char," Gemma said, deciding to use her reputation for blunt speech. "Why are you here? I'm happy we are friends again, but you want something. Spill."

Charity looked almost shocked, but then shook her head as her own memories of a younger, brash Gemma came back. "You haven't changed much?"

Gemma gave her low laugh with real amusement. "Nope. So, what is it?"

Charity bit her lip, and brushed her carefully styled hair back from her face. She the purse that had fallen to her side a little closer.

"I need to see Patrick Jane," she said, eyes wide and hopeful. "I need a reading."

Gemma's expression darkened, and her eyes flashed.

"No," Gemma stated.

"Please, Gem," Charity asked. "I have to. It's important."

"No," Gemma said, standing up. Her tone was heavy with fury. "I can't believe you, Charity! You come here to make up, just to try to use my friendship to get a damned reading? Unbelievable!"

The blond woman stood and caught Gemma's arm in a tight grip, her eyes pleading. "Gemma, it's not like that! Please, I'm begging you! I need to see him."

"You need to go now," Gemma replied coldly, pulling her arm loose. The blond woman suddenly crumpled and started to sob. Gemma took a deep breath, her angry gaze softening despite herself. After a long minute, Gemma finally sat next to the weeping woman but didn't touch her.

"What is it, Charity?" the dark eyed woman finally asked. "What is so important?"

"I have to know," Charity sobbed. "I can't stand not knowing anymore! And when I heard you were here, I thought maybe he was too. Mother always swore by him! She still hopes he will start taking clients again."

Gemma gave a heavy, irritated sigh and glanced up to one of the hidden cameras. Van Pelt suddenly appeared from the hallway, a little confused but ready to physically throw the crying woman out if Gemma asked. Gemma met the tall agent's eyes, before looking back at the weeping Charity.

"You think your husband is cheating," Gemma stated gently. Charity looked up into Gemma's dark, wise eyes in surprise.

"I don't know, and I can't stand not knowing anymore," Charity sobbed. "I love him so much! But I….I…."

"Ask him, Charity," Gemma replied, not unkindly. "Or get a private investigator. Look at his cell phone, his credit card bills. Just follow him around yourself! You don't need a psychic. Not for this."

Van Pelt handed the slowly calming woman a tissue, and Charity sniffed loudly as she wiped her eyes. Suddenly, her eyes widened.

"No, no, and no!" the raven haired woman said, trying to back up as she saw Charity's look.

"Yes!" Charity cried. She pulled a man's heavy watch from her purse, and forced it into Gemma suddenly cold hands. She gripped the dark haired woman's hand tightly and wouldn't let her go. "You have the sight, too! I know you do! I remember seeing you work with him. Tell me! I need to know!"

"Gemma?" Van Pelt asked in concern, poised to move.

"It's okay, Grace," Gemma replied, looking into Charity's fanatical eyes. "Charity, if I do this now, it is never again. Do you understand me? Never again. Say it."

"Yes, never again." Charity agreed breathlessly, eyes wide. "I know you hate it, but I just have to know!"

Gemma narrowed her lips. She slowly closed her almond eyes and took a deep breath, moving her body to face Charity more fully. Her brows creased in thought, her head tilted as she palmed the watch in her hand, the blond woman's hands clutching at the watch as well. Gemma stayed like that for a long time, swaying slightly, before starting to speak. Van Pelt could only stare in shock, and dared to shoot a confused look into one of the hidden cameras.

"I smell…water," Gemma said, her voice slightly slurred. "Musty water and…pine trees. Tastes of…snow, ice. Feels like….wood, a room. Air feels…thin, a mountain? A cabin, maybe?"

Charity leaned forward, intent. "What else?" the blond pressed. Gemma's hands tightened on the watch, and Van Pelt heard the metal band grind against the back.

"Seems like….winter, the past," Gemma said, before opening her eyes as she panted slightly. "That's it, Charity, that's all I have."

"No!" Charity cried. "There has to be more!" Her eyes became almost wild as she tried to press Gemma for more.

"Stop," Gemma said, freeing herself with a jerk. Her eyes looked unfocused but her tone was sharp. "That's all I have. A cabin this past winter, on a mountain."

"But what does that mean?" Charity wailed. Gemma swayed slightly even sitting, and Van Pelt caught her flailing hand before she unbalanced. A drop of bright red blood appeared from Gemma's nose, and the dark haired woman wiped at it with an unsteady hand, leaving a smear on her lip.

"Not my problem," Gemma said heartlessly as she tried to bring herself back together, voice faint. "I think it's time you left, Charity."

"Now," Grace said firmly when Charity looked mutinous. Something in Van Pelt's look cowed the woman, and she stood up. She plunged into her purse and pulled out a thick wad of bills. Dropping them on the table, the blond woman rushed out while Van Pelt knelt in front of the dazed Gemma.

"Are you really psychic?" Van Pelt asked softly, light brown eyes wide.

"There are no such things as psychics," came a golden voice from behind her, and Patrick Jane pushed the red head aside. He dabbed at the blood on Gemma's lip before she sighed and leaned into his shoulder with a slight shudder. Lisbon followed Jane, her green eyes wide in concern for the dark eyed woman.

"You didn't have to do that," Jane said softly, wrapping his arm around her. His eyes looked concerned and haunted, but also angry.

"Only way to get rid of her," Gemma replied, her voice uncharacteristically unsteady. She closed her eyes in pain. "Migraine," she said weakly.

"What the hell just happened?" Lisbon demanded.

Jane gently helped the raven haired woman stand.

"Gemma got rid of that Charity woman. Now she has a migraine," the blue eyed man replied calmly as they walked away. "And I'm helping her to bed to sleep it off."

A few minutes later, Jane reappeared in the living room. Lisbon and Van Pelt were still there, confused. Lisbon's question died on her lips when she saw the raw fury in Jane's eyes as he stared at the wad of one hundred dollar bills on the coffee table. Rage, and something like guilt, forced his breath in and out harshly.

"There must be almost a thousand dollars there," Van Pelt said in awe.

"My old fee," Jane said shortly, grabbing up the money and hurrying into the kitchen. The two women followed, and watched in surprise as Jane hurled the money violently into the stainless steel sink. He lit the gas stove and used it to set fire to them all. He was standing there, unmoving, so Lisbon caught Van Pelt's eye and sent her from the room with a silent gesture.

Lisbon moved to stand at the taller man's side, and looked at him in concern. He had managed to make a neutral expression, but Lisbon knew him too well to be fooled.

"Hey," Lisbon said softly. Jane looked at her, green eyes capturing blue. Lisbon patted his shoulder, and then took his hand in hers. His fingers tightened around hers.

Together, they silently watched the money burn in the kitchen sink.


	12. Waiting

**Author's Note: I have noticed, that the more reviews I get, the faster I update. Nothing like knowing people care to feed the writing bunny :) (hint, hint).**

**Chapter 12-Waiting**

Gemma woke slowly with a slight smile, burrowing into the warm form at her back. She kept her eyes closed, relishing the faint scent of sandalwood and the strong arm wrapped around her waist. She let the soothing sound of Cho's deep, even breathing keep her relaxed, and dozed lightly in happy contentment.

She felt when he woke, and snuggled closer when his arm tightened slightly to bring her closer.

"You okay?" Cho asked, his mahogany voice sleepy.

"I am now," Gemma replied, before turning around to face the compact Asian man. She traced her fingers lightly along the side of his face, teasing the dimple that showed when he smiled at her. "Hi there, stranger."

"Hi there," Cho replied, and they kissed lingeringly. Gemma curled herself into the crook of his arm, hand on his chest and they lay there simply enjoying to moment.

"I heard what happened," Cho finally said. "The psychic thing you did for that crazy woman."

"Charity isn't crazy," Gemma sighed. "Just desperate."

"I was worried. You don't get migraines," Cho added after a moment. Truthfully, he had almost had a stroke when Lisbon had poked her head into the garage van to let him know Gemma was ill. The small agent knew her people well, and neither she nor Rigsby had begrudged him when left to join her. The raven haired woman was already asleep when he entered her bedroom, and he had quietly joined her on the bed. Moments later, he had followed her into sleep.

"I used to. It's been years since I had one. I guess my little show triggered one," the dark eyed woman replied tiredly.

"Why did you do it, then?" Cho asked again, gently petting her hair.

"I had too," Gemma replied, picking at the button his shirt. "She wasn't going to let it go. One way or another, she would have found Janey and tried to force him to do a reading. I couldn't let her do that to him."

"You were protecting Jane," Cho said slowly. He shifted to look into her eyes. "Why is he so angry? Van Pelt said he burned the money Charity left."

"Guilt," Gemma said shortly, sitting up.

"I don't understand," Cho replied, also sitting up. Gemma rubbed her eyes, and got up.

"He can't stand the lie anymore," Gemma explained. "Especially from himself. He will never stop blaming himself."

"But it was you who played psychic. Why would that make him so mad?" Cho asked in confusion.

"Kim, he knows why I did it," Gemma said sadly. "That I did the deed so he wouldn't have to. Because of what he sees as his lies and now cowardice, he feels that he basically forced me to into lying for him."

"But that's irrational," was Cho's reply.

"Yes, but when are guilt, grief and self loathing rational? Because it certainly isn't for Patrick Jane." Gemma asked, leaning over to give him a soft kiss. "Come, my love. Our little party is about to get started. You have a job to do, and a thief to catch."

Cho reluctantly agreed, and after giving her a deep kiss, left Gemma alone in her room to return to his job. Gemma used the bathroom, putting herself back together. Leaning over the sink, she stared into her reflection, noting the persistent tightness around her almond eyes and the tired look in her eyes. The migraine was gone now, but a few hours of sleep did little to repair several days worth of insomnia and emotional turmoil this house had brought her. After brushing her teeth and washing her face, she started to feel almost normal again.

Lisbon was sitting in the living room, getting updates from the CBI teams tailing the art house delivery crew Jane had decided were casing the houses prior to the robberies. She nodded, her eyes asking the silent question as Gemma passed her. Gemma gave the small agent a reassuring smile, and joined Jane in the kitchen. She pulled out a bottle of water from the fridge, and turned to look at Jane.

The tall, blond man was sitting quietly, a cup of half finished tea at this side. He was working on his logic puzzles, and Gemma chose to ignore the slight brittleness of his grin.

"Feeling better?" he asked.

"Much," Gemma replied, sipping her water. "Everything set for later?"

"Pretty much," the blue eyed man replied. He looked seriously into her eyes. "You didn't have to do that with Charity, Sparks. You can't protect me from myself forever."

"Maybe not," the dark eyed woman replied calmly. "But that won't stop me from trying. You don't want to see them, your old clients. They still talk about it, you know."

Jane had no reply, his eyes sad. The eerie quiet in the kitchen was broken when Lisbon entered.

"Gemma," Lisbon said, "It's time for you to leave. I've got a car on the way to take you back to Sacramento."

Gemma sighed, but nodded. She had agreed to being evacuated the anticipated night of the robbery, partly because she knew her role was done but mostly to relax Cho and Jane. Quietly, she left to get her things, and gave Jane a quick kiss on the cheek as she passed.

"I'll see you later, Janey," Gemma said. "Teresa. Take care of them?"

"I always do," Lisbon promised. "And thank you. If this works, we couldn't have done it without you."

Gemma gave a wicked smile, her almond eyes crinkling at the corners. "It's been fun. Almost like being in a James Bond movie. Too bad I couldn't get the good Agent Cho to do the naked gold dust thing. He can be such a stick in the mud."

Jane and Lisbon both laughed as the dark haired woman left. Lisbon looked at Jane, glad to see him smile again.

"So, are you sure this is going to happen tonight?" Lisbon asked.

"Yes," Jane replied. "This guy, he is good but driven by something more than greed. Otherwise he would have changed his MO after the first robbery. But four heists, each one done the same way and at the same time? Common sense would say change, but he hasn't. Something else is driving him."

"Like a ritual," Lisbon mused. "But why?"

Jane shrugged. "How should I know?" Lisbon just gave him an exasperated look that made him smile, before peeking out the large windows and watching the dark car pull away with Gemma inside. She pulled up her handset to signal the waiting teams.

"Ok, everyone in position. Teams 1 and 2, bring your cars into position. Cho, Rigsby and Van Pelt, you know what to do," Lisbon ordered. Jane placed his tea cup in the sink and they turned off the lights. Gemma had very obviously left, so the house should be empty, alarm system armed and yet irresistible to their thief. Lisbon and Jane then joined Van Pelt in the surveillance room, carefully locking the door behind them, leaving the rest of the large Malibu home empty.

Jane and Lisbon settled into their chairs, while Van Pelt manned her computers.

"Now we wait," Lisbon said, eying the spread of monitors showing just about every inch of the home.

Jane just tilted his head in agreement, and the CBI team settled in. Lisbon had several discrete but (to the wary) identifiable CBI surveillance cars planted outside and along the long, winding road up to the house. The local police had increased their patrols. The illusion was complete and the trap set.

Achingly slow, the daylight gave way to night, and they waited.


	13. Thieves in the Night

**Author's Note: I wasn't too thrilled with the last chapter, but what can you do? Stories sometimes have a mind of thier own. Oh, and incidentally, I don't have these beta read, so if you see glaring errors or even annoying small ones, let me know!**

**Chapter 13—Thieves in the Night**

"Lisbon. Lisbon!" the harsh whisper woke Lisbon from her doze.

"Whaa…" was all she could mutter as she cleared the cobwebs from her mind. Her neck ached from the unnatural extension and her mouth was dry. It was 2 am.

"Boss, I think he's here!" Van Pelt said softly. The words quickly woke Lisbon the rest of the way. She quickly looked to see both Jane and Van Pelt avidly watching one of the monitors.

"When?" she asked quickly, her mind racing.

"Just now," Van Pelt answered. "There, coming the sliding doors to the kitchen."

Lisbon elbowed Jane aside, who gave way gracefully. Lisbon brushed her hair back, green eyes intent as they watched a tall, lanky figure worked quickly at the patio doors.

"Boss, the alarm has just been cut," came Cho's voice from the handset, the volume set low. Their surveillance room was far from soundproofed, and they didn't want to spook their target.

"Okay, we see him. Hold steady, guys. Teams 1 and 2, spread out. See if he brought any friends," Lisbon replied, and didn't bother to answer to the quick answer of the perimeter CBI agents. "He's coming in from the kitchen."

The shadowed thief slid the door open just enough to slip inside, then slid the door shut quietly. He paused, scanning the room. Van Pelt hit some keys, and the camera zoomed into his face, and Jane let out a little satisfied chuckle.

"Ha!" Jane said softly, careful to keep quiet. In the pale moonlight, the long, narrow face of the Grosser Art Auction house manager looked almost grey. His normally carefully coifed brown hair was now slicked back under a tight hood, and he slid a dark cloth mask over his face before treading further into the room.

The hidden CBI agent watched as their thief scanned the living room quickly, pausing for a moment as he saw the French painting on the easel in its heavy, bulky frame. He didn't approach it though, but quickly glided through the rest of the house. He opened the garage door, seeing the plain white van and glancing in the windows, obviously checking for watchers. Lisbon gave a small breath of thanks that she had moved the surveillance van already on Jane's advice. The thief then quietly closed the door and tried a few others. He opened the small back bedroom, already stripped bare with a few empty boxes left out.

Another door revealed a large, open room with wide windows that had once been Jane's wife's music room, but was now empty. He scratched at the den door and the three agents tensed, but their thief didn't bother to unlock it. Gemma has suggested putting a small padlock on the outside of the door, and through some sort of alchemy only she understood, rigged the brace to pull away when the door opened inward but otherwise seemed secure. It looked like whatever was in that room couldn't get out, so their thief moved on.

"Local PD found a stolen car about 2 miles from here," Rigsby's voice came softly from Lisbon's handset.

"His ride," Jane commented quietly as they watched the skulking shadow survey Gemma's bedroom and glance into the formal dining room that held a bunch of half unpacked boxes.

Lisbon felt Jane tense beside her as the thief crept up the stairs, but didn't move. The shadowy figure opened a linen closet door and the upstairs bathroom. He tried the two locked doors, and Van Pelt zoomed in as he picked the lock to the first bedroom. He glanced around quickly, then relocked the empty room. Lisbon heard Jane's breathing quicken slightly as the thief picked the master bedroom door and disappear inside.

It seemed a long eternity before the man came back out, but he again locked the door behind him and crept back downstairs. Jane didn't relax.

"This guy is careful," Van Pelt said quietly.

"He doesn't want a repeat of the Westlake's," Lisbon agreed as their thief approached. "Everyone, get into position," Lisbon ordered through her handset. Both she and Van Pelt pulled out their guns and quietly pulled open their door. Lisbon winced slightly at the faint noise of the fake lock falling off, but a quick glance to the monitors showed their thief too busy to notice. She met Jane's eyes, and nodded at him before the two women silently made their way down the hallway.

Cho and Rigsby quietly slid the kitchen door open, and kept close to the wall as the crept inside. Lisbon used the carefully mounted mirror they had set onto the wall to watch their industrious thief's back and see Cho and Rigsby move into position from the kitchen. She took a deep breath, waved Van Pelt behind her to get ready. The red haired woman looked determined as she readied her gun, and slid into position behind her smaller boss.

"Freeze!" Lisbon suddenly yelled out, coming around the corner. "Police!"

Cho and Rigsby moved out from the kitchen as their thief started and whirled. Van Pelt moved out to cover her boss as the two men moved smoothly to surround the thief. Their suspect had the French painting half out of its heavy, ornate wooden from and was holding a sharp box knife up.

"Drop the knife," Cho said intently. "Drop it now!"

The thief complied, and suddenly his hand dove into his jacket and pulled out a gun. He aimed in Lisbon and Van Pelt's general direction.

It all seemed to happen so fast, from Jane's location in the surveillance room. He had been enjoying the show, until the gun came out. Even as he straightened up in shock, gunshots rang out. Their thief suddenly jerked backward and fell onto the easel behind him and it all crashed to the side. The sound of breaking wood was almost lost in the confusion of the moment.

It seemed like it was over, as Cho, Rigsby and Van Pelt quickly converged on the downed man. Jane watched in stunned silence, until he saw movement. The petite frame of Lisbon suddenly fell back against the wall, and slid slowly to the ground, her gun limp in her hand. Cho and Rigsby quickly checked that their suspect was dead before holstering their guns, and turning to help Lisbon.

"Officer down! Get an ambulance here now!" Cho said almost too loudly into his handset, the clipped ends of his words the only evidence of his distress as he gazed wide eyed at his indestructible boss laying injured on the floor.

"Lisbon!" Jane shouted as he ran. He found her leaning against the wall, her face pale with Van Pelt hovering over her. He quickly pulled her gun from her limp hand, and felt the warm, sticky blood pooling around her soak through his pants as he knelt. He ripped off his vest, buttons flying, and pressed the wadded fabric into her thigh that was welling up so much blood.

"Lisbon?" Jane asked urgently, blue eyes wide with distress. The coppery tang in the air set his heart racing, and his mind tried to flashback to another night of blood in this house. "Answer me!" he pleaded, trying to keep himself from panicking and coming perilously close to failure.

"Jane?" Lisbon said, her voice weak. Van Pelt was doing a quick survey of her boss, and ripped open Lisbon's dark green blouse to reveal another long graze along her side, but it didn't appear to be bleeding as badly. Jane gasped when he saw it, and his hands started to shake. The ambulance siren sounded in the distance.

"Jane," Lisbon repeated, reaching out to touch his face, but her hand slid weakly down his chest. It left a faint trail of blood on his shirt. "Don't leave me."

"Never," Jane whispered as he leaned in, putting more pressure on her leg wound. Lisbon's eyes fluttered closed as blood loss stole her consciousness. "Lisbon! Stay with me! Lisbon!" Jane said urgently.

Lisbon forced her eyes open in response to the panic in Jane's voice. "I'm alright," she said, slurring only slightly, her strength slipping away. "Just..stay…"

Suddenly Jane was pulled away by firm hands as paramedics swarmed the petite agent. He struggled briefly before giving in as his mind caught up with his instincts. He stayed close, hearing the rip of fabric as the paramedics tore her pant leg open and packed her bleeding thigh tightly. He winced as she groaned as they wrapped her leg tightly and pushed a dressing to her side. He watched with his heart pounding as they loaded her onto the stretcher, and fought back tears when he saw her pale face. Her eyes flicked open as they loaded her into the ambulance.

"Jane?" she croaked.

"I'm here," Jane said as he rushed to her side and hopped into the ambulance by her side. Cho was already giving orders and making sure the scene was secured, trying to keep his concerned glances toward his boss to a minimum. Rigsby and Van Pelt were talking with the local police as they arrived, trying to keep everything calm as support personnel arrived. They allowed themselves more concerned looks, both for their fallen boss and at an uncharacteristically frazzled Jane who hovered over Lisbon's form.

Suddenly Jane paused in confusion, and caught Cho's deep, concerned gaze.

"Go," the Asian man ordered. "We will follow when we can." Jane nodded, and then his attention was riveted by Lisbon who moaned slightly. She struggled slightly to free her hand, and Jane gripped her fingers.

"Did we get the bastard?" Lisbon finally muttered, as the ambulance doors closed. She flinched as the paramedic jabbed a needle into her other arm as they sped away, and Jane's fingers tightened in response. She sighed slightly when the morphine finally hit, and fig green eyes met ocean blue.

"We got him," Jane replied, smoothing her tussled hair back from her face gently. Lisbon smiled slightly, the cop in her satisfied. "You just stay with me, Lisbon."

"Always," Lisbon whispered, and finally let herself slide into welcoming darkness.


	14. Morphine and Secrets

**Chapter 14-Morphine and Secrets**

Lisbon woke to a jarring drop and then bright lights. Voices faded in and out as she struggled to stay awake. She was suddenly so tired and oddly numb.

"Hear rate 120, blood pressure 75/50," a female voice called out, then Lisbon grayed out again.

"…2 units of blood. And get that fluid in her!" a male voice was saying as she came to, wincing as her examiners jarred her injured leg. "Looks like it hit the femoral, let's get to the OR now!"

"Lisbon, Lisbon," a golden voice was saying in worry.

"Jane?" she called out in confusion, and suddenly her hand was enclosed in warmth and a pair of vivid but worried blue eyes appeared.

"I'll be waiting right here," Jane promised hastily, as they wheeled her away, letting her hand go only when he physically couldn't hold on anymore. The next few minutes where a blur. All she ever remembered later was a lot of activity and the smell of new plastic as a mask was placed over her face. She felt herself slide away, holding tightly to Jane's promise.

A few hours later, Lisbon woke up slowly in a cheerfully bland hospital room. The beige walls met a large window with the morning sun illuminating a sleeping Jane in a chair near the foot of her bed. She heard the steady beep of her heart rate, feeling the stickers catch under the light hospital gown. She looked up to see a bag of red blood going into her IV. She shifted in the bed, letting out a little gasp as her tightly wrapped thigh sent an electric shock up her groin to her side.

Jane woke with a start at her gasp of pain, and smiled broadly in relief. "Morning, sleepy head."

"What happened?" Lisbon asked, trying to bring the fractured memories into focus. Jane's eyes darkened for a minute, before he plastered his typical smile on.

"You got shot in the leg. It hit the femoral artery, and you lost a lot of blood," Jane said calmly, watching her and chewing the inside of his lip.

"Anyone else hurt?" Lisbon asked sharply.

"No, just you, my dear," Jane smiled. "A second bullet grazed your side, in case you are wondering why that hurts too."

"I was, actually," Lisbon replied, trying to push herself up in the bed. Jane stood up and helped her adjust her pillows. Lisbon looked at his face, seeing the worry lines he was almost succeeding in hiding from her. "How long am I stuck here?"

"Doctor said at least a few days," Jane said. Lisbon realized he really was worried about her, not to tint the hated D-word with disdain like usual. She caught his hand.

"Thanks," she said, and met his smile with one of her own. Jane shrugged, and pulled his hand away. She could all but see him putting up his guard again, hardening his armor. Something in her chest started to ache.

"The others will be here soon," Jane said instead. "Cho updated Minelli, and Rigsby and Van Pelt are getting the paperwork in order. Gemma's is mad at you guys, by the way."

"What?" Lisbon asked in surprise. Jane gave her a playful smile.

"You got blood on her new silk screen painting and broke her easel. She accused you of getting shot just so you didn't have to face her wrath for a few days," Jane said. Lisbon felt herself crack a smile despite herself.

The blond man sat back down on the chair and crossed his legs. Lisbon realized he was in a set of light blue scrubs instead of his regular clothes.

"What happened to your clothes?" she asked in surprise.

Jane gave a rueful smile and patted the white plastic bag at his side. "I'm never going to get the stains out. The nurses were kind enough to get me these scrubs so I wouldn't have to walk around all bloody and scare the other patients."

"Oh. Sorry," Lisbon said awkwardly. Jane shrugged.

"Not your fault," he replied. "Unlike Gemma, I don't think you got shot on purpose."

The sat in silence for a minute. Lisbon became aware of the throbbing ache in her thigh, and a sharp pain in her side every time she breathed. Something must have shown in her face, because Jane suddenly looked concerned.

"Pain?" he asked. Lisbon nodded, and he helped her find the nurse call button. A few minutes later, an older black woman in cheerful yellow scrubs and long hair in corn rows came in.

"Good, you are awake!" the woman said happily. "I'm Jenny, your nurse. How are you feeling?"

"Like I've been shot," Lisbon answered, a little sourly. Jane's lips quirked a little.

Nurse Jenny took it all in stride. "I'll be right back with some pain meds then, okay?" Lisbon nodded and the woman left.

"Be good," Jane admonished her when the door closed. She looked at him a little mutinously. "Don't make me pinch you by being a bad patient."

"You are bad visitor," Lisbon retorted, then closed her eyes so she could pretend not to see his amused look. Nurse Jenny came back in a few minutes later, and Jane stood up while the nurse fussed over Lisbon's IVs.

"I'm going to get some tea. I'll be right back." Jane declared. He took Lisbon's hand and squeezed it as he left.

"That is some guy you've got there," Nurse Jenny commented once the door was closed.

"What?" Lisbon asked, looking at the black woman in surprise.

"Your guy, Patrick," Jenny said. "He hasn't left your side since you got back from surgery. He's been worried sick, despite that charming smile. You hold on to him as long as you can, honey. He's a good one. I can always tell."

"But he's not my anything. We just work together," Lisbon tried to explain, feeling her face get hot.

"Uh huh, and I've got a bridge in Arizona I'd like to sell you," Jenny said in amusement, finishing her work.

A few minutes later, the quiet finally got to Lisbon, and she slipped off to sleep once more. Jane returned with a Styrofoam cup of his tea. When he saw Lisbon asleep again, he quietly sat down in the chair, and simply watched her.

Her face was drawn and pale. Not the porcelain tone of her normal skin color, but the pasty white of illness and anemia. Her hair was tangled, but some of the pain around her eyes and lips had eased with the medication, and she looked almost angelic as she slept.

The soft noise of the door opening broke Jane's revere, and the tall, lithe form of Gemma appeared. She sat a small bag down, and then walked behind Jane to give him a tight hug in the chair. He gripped her arms as he sat, looking at Lisbon.

"I almost lost her," he said at length. Gemma's arms tightened, and she laid her cheek next to his. The faint scent of her citrus perfume briefly overpowered the astringent smell of the hospital.

"But you didn't," Gemma said quietly.

"But I could have," Jane replied, and Gemma heard the fear in his voice.

"She's a cop, Janey," Gemma said. "She knows how to take care of herself. She's no one's victim. She never will be."

"But I almost lost her today," Jane repeated, blue eyes haunted. Gemma sighed into his ear, but didn't stop hugging him despite the awkward angle.

"And she could get shot again tomorrow. Or Cho get hit by a bus. Rigsby could choke to death or Van Pelt drown in her bathtub," Gemma said. "I could get hit by lightening or you could drop dead of a heart attack in the next five minutes. We all live with death just around the corner, Janey. That doesn't mean we stop living."

Jane didn't reply, just sat staring at Lisbon. But Gemma knew, could feel his overwhelming fear of loss again, the terror of knowing someone he loved was taken away from him again. He was trying to shut down again.

"You could love her," Gemma declared and let him go. Jane didn't bother to deny it. "And she might even let herself love you back, you silly, stupid man. Are you seriously going to pass up your second chance because you are chicken? Because you might get hurt again?"

Jane's eyes dropped to the floor. Gemma's lips tightened in exasperation. "Janey, I love you. You know I do. And I'm telling you this as someone who knows you and lost the same people you did. Look at me."

Jane looked up, and felt himself pinned by her dark, unfathomable eyes.

"Life is pain and loss, Patrick. The only thing that makes it bearable is the fragile, transient joys we have in between," Gemma said quietly. "We both lost. We both got hurt. You want redemption and revenge, and I get that. But don't be selfish, and take away her choices in this. It's not just about you. There is no guarantee you won't get hurt again, Patrick Jane. But there is no guarantee you will, either."

The blond man was quiet, and Gemma saw him play with his wedding ring. She knelt in front of him and took his hand, touching the gold band as well, memory full of another family now lost.

"You find that monster, and you kill him if you need too. And then you kiss that woman sleeping in that bed soundly and passionately," Gemma ordered. "You know as well as I do that your wife and child don't care about revenge, but would care about your happiness. I know they would both like Teresa Lisbon, and the two of you are well suited no matter what you think."

"I can't," Jane said in a choked voice. "Not even her, no matter how much I want to."

"You won't," Gemma said firmly before she left. "And there is a difference. I just hope Lisbon is a stubborn as you are."

Jane sat quietly for a moment, then turned his head and stared out the window. He never saw Lisbon's green eyes open slightly, and look at him thoughtfully, before they closed again.

Stubborn, Lisbon thought to herself as she drifted off again. I can do stubborn.


	15. The Mystery of Gemma

**Chapter 15-The Mystery of Gemma**

Grace Van Pelt was almost done with her paperwork. Rigsby was still struggling through his mound of forms, and Cho had given up half way through yesterday, using his position as temporary head of the team as an excuse. Van Pelt had snorted softly to herself. Yes, Cho was temporary head of the unit for exactly 48 more hours, until Lisbon came back from her week off. But the entire Serious Crimes Division had been placed on a kind of hiatus until she got back. No new cases until Lisbon came home, was how Jane had put it, and everyone had agreed. Even their ultimate boss, Virgil Minelli.

The only thing Grace had left to do was follow her curiosity about Charity Stocklin, aka the crazy lady who had gotten Gemma to play psychic for her at the beach house. A quick online search revealed that Charity Stocklin was indeed a successful fundraiser. Her causes ranged from the local little league team in Malibu, to big cancer dinners and even an international anti-fur campaign that ran ads of attractive celebrities in their birthday suits. One picture Grace found was of a tall, blue eyed, marvelously well toned man who looked naggingly familiar. The caption said he was some Welsh actor, and she spent several minutes trying to place him before moving on in frustration.

A society page blurb in an LA paper stated that Charity Stocklin had sued for divorce from her tycoon husband about 4 days after her Malibu meeting with Gemma. Curious, Van Pelt looked deeper. But the deeper she dug, the more confused she got. After about two hours, she sat at her computer and was staring off into space, thinking hard.

"You look troubled, Grace," Jane said as he sat on the edge of her desk, careful not to mess up her piles of papers. Grace blinked her light brown eyes at him.

"I'm just trying to figure something out," she replied. Jane smiled in encouragement, listening. "I've been looking into Charity Stocklin, the woman from the beach house."

Jane's smile became a trifle forced, but he kept listening. "What about her?"

"Well, I've just been checking her out to make sure nothing jumped out to link her to these crimes," Grace said.

"Being thorough. Lisbon would approve," Jane grinned, blue eyes twinkling.

"Well, anyway, I also looked into her husband. As far as I can tell, Gemma had never met him, didn't even know Charity was married to him. I've found no record that Gemma even having any information on either of them," Grace said. "If what Charity and Gemma said is true, they hadn't talked in almost 10 years."

"So?" Jane asked.

"Well, it's that reading she did," Grace said, deciding to just put it out there. "She said a mountain cabin, sometime last year. I just found out that George Stocklin's company keeps a skiing cabin in the Swiss Alps, and that he used it last November for two weeks with a single guest. But not his wife."

"And?" Jane prompted calmly, blue eyes serious.

"Stocklin's company has properties all over the world, but only one skiing cabin on a mountain. And only in Europe. Stocklin is a vice president, but not an owner so he would have no direct or even indirect link to purchasing those properties. And those properties are not public domain information."

"What are you saying, Grace?" the blond man asked, a carefully pleasant smile on his face.

"How did Gemma about it? There is no way she should," Grace finally declared. "It isn't possible, unless…"

"Grace," Jane said, placing his hand on her shoulder and giving her his best, sunniest grin. "There are no such things as psychics. Gemma is just a very good fake. I should know. We both learned from the best."

"But how did she know?" Grace pressed.

Jane shrugged. "You will have to ask her. But it is easier to do a cold read on someone you know, and Gemma did know Charity very well once. But, Grace, there are no such things as psychics, okay? Just leave it be."

"People can change a lot in ten years," Grace pointed out. "And it still doesn't explain how she knew about a cabin in the Swiss Alps."

"Grace," Jane said, his eyes uncommonly serious. "Just let it be, okay. I'm sure there is some rational explanation we don't know about. Gemma has never, not once, claimed to be psychic. And I have never met anyone who claimed to be psychic who wasn't a fraud or delusional."

After the blond man left, Grace looked back to her computer. She was a trained investigator, and a good one. Working with Patrick Jane had opened her eyes to a lot of things, and while she may disagree with him on occasion, she respected his judgment. Then, it dawned on her the very careful way Jane had phrased his last sentence, and Grace felt her eyes go wide. The evidence she had found said there was absolutely no way Gemma Patrick could know about George Stocklin and a cabin in the alps over a year ago.

But she had.

-------------------------------------------------------------

Fin.

**Author's Note: So, now I've finished all the original plotlines I came up with for now! If anyone has a good idea, I'm happy to oblige. Until then, I don't know how long until I get another plot bunny comes hopping in to eat my lettuce.**


End file.
